Target: Green Arrow
by prophet87
Summary: A bounty hunter plans to capture the Green Arrow and sell him to Lex Luthor. Takes place after 'Justice', but before Season Seven. More and more Chlollie as the story develops. COMPLETED.
1. Chapter 1: Preparations

Chapter One: Preparations

"Are the preparations complete?"

It was a few minutes past midnight, and rain was falling heavily, creating large puddles on the ground next to the warehouse. The clouds overhead extinguished any light that might have come from the moon, so that it was difficult to make out where the wall of the warehouse ended and the night sky began.

"Oh yeah, everything is exactly as you wanted"

The second man to speak looked across at the figure who stood next to him as he searched for the key to the warehouse door. As ever, the man was impeccably attired, a dark designer suit seeming out of place in this run down area of Metropolis. A man of expensive tastes, that was for sure, and that was about all he really knew about this guy. Apart from the fact that he was English – the accent was a dead give away. He wanted to know more about this mysterious Mr Brown, but in the two months since he'd known him fresh information had not been forthcoming, and there was something about him that meant you just didn't ask questions. Part of him was unsettled by this, but the man paid well and after he'd got out of hospital he'd needed the cash. The compensation he'd received from LuthorCorp was worthless – it was as if they hadn't wanted to acknowledge his existence after the explosion. And as for the future – well, if the plan worked out he'd be set up for life.

Finally he felt the right shaped key and inserted it into the lock. He opened the door and was glad to step inside out of the rain. He felt for the light switch on the side of the wall, and eventually a dim light illuminated a stairwell leading downwards. Brown stepped past him and began making his way down the steps.

"And you are certain that we will not be disturbed?"

"The whole area is due for demolition in a month's time, and everyone's moved out – we'll have the place to ourselves"

"Good – we wouldn't want anything to distract out attention away from our guest, now would we?"

The other man smiled. When Brown had first outlined the plan to him two months before he'd been excited, but now that it was so close he sometimes could hardly believe that it was happening. And the thought of the next week – well, it was going to make the pain of the last year all worthwhile.

At the bottom of the stairs another door blocked their path. Brown opened it and stepped through. The room beyond was large, and had clearly once been used for storage. Now all that was left were crates and pieces of disused machinery. The air was musty, and the light bulbs cast long shadows into the corners of the room.

"Steve, did you bring me my cigarettes?"

Brown turned toward the direction of the voice. In one corner of the room a small area was well lit, and a young woman lounged across a chair, a magazine in her hands. She wore a pair of tight jeans and a denim jacket, and the collection of stubbed out cigarette ends in the ash tray beside her on the table stood as testimony to her addiction to nicotine.

Steve reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a fresh packet. He threw them across to the woman, who caught them and wasted no time in setting about getting her next hit. She then offered them across to the fourth person in the room, a massive guy who sat staring at the flickering TV located in the far corner. He rejected them with a grunt, and instead took a gulp from a can of beer grasped in his right hand.

Brown considered the team he assembled for this mission. Steve Stadler had taken on the role of number two in the operation, not least because, after Brown, he was the only member of the team with any intelligence. Brown had recruited Stadler two months before, and his enthusiasm for the job convinced Brown that he had chosen wisely. An ex intelligence services operative, he'd be sacked for being a little too enthusiastic about his work. His colleagues had reported him for going too far in interrogation sessions, and at least two suspects had died as a result of what they had endured at the hands of this man. He'd then been employed by LuthorCorp to head up a security operation where his particular talents were more appreciated, but when the facility he was in charge of was attacked and blown up he'd been hospitalised and his new employer, having no further use for him, let him go. The attack had also left Stadler with a deep scar down the right hand side of his face, and a thirst for vengeance – a thirst that Brown had offered to satisfy. Yes, Stadler was a good choice for this operation – his knowledge of LuthorCorp communication protocols had been invaluable, and his personal take on the mission meant he could be relied upon to take orders.

The other members of the team impressed Brown less, but they each had talents that the operation required. The girl was little more than trailer trash. Carly was an aspiring actress who had no chance of making it, and so she had turned to another profession in order to make ends meet. Brown viewed her with contempt, but the plan required a performer and the money he was paying would keep her in line. As for Dom, well, he was like every other example of hired muscle on the planet – you pay the wage and they will do whatever you want.

Brown walked towards the centre of the room, where a table was located. As he got closer he could see that a number of thick leather straps had been fixed to its sides, some forming cuffs and others stretching its full width. He took one of the straps in his hands, testing its strength.

"Don't worry Mr Brown, they'll keep him under control", said Stadler, joining Brown at the table.

"I don't doubt it, Mr Stadler, I don't doubt it."

There was a few seconds pause as Brown stared around the room.

"Then I think it is time we welcomed our guest, don't you?"

Steve smiled. So it was on. Tonight he would do what he'd dreamt of doing for two months. Tonight he would capture the Green Arrow.


	2. Chapter 2: An Old Friend

Chapter Two: An Old Friend

"So how is Metropolis's next Pulitzer Prize winner?"

Chloe stopped her typing mid sentence. She knew that voice anywhere, even amidst the noise of the newsroom.

"Oliver!"

She turned around in her chair to find the head of Queen Industries standing a couple of feet away, a broad smile on his face. Clad in a casual leather jacket and jeans, he looked just he had the last time she had seen him, leaving Clark's barn with Bart, AC and Victor.

"You look great!". She got up and embraced him, hugging his body close to her. "I've missed you so much!"

"Hey, with a welcome like this I should go away more often", said Oliver, as she relaxed her grip. She took a step back, but kept a hand on each of his arms, like a child not wishing to let go of a treasured possession.

"So?"

"So….?", he replied, slightly shaking his head and giving her an expression of fake innocence.

"Oh, don't come over all coy on me, Oliver. I want to know _everything_. What have you and the guys been up to? Don't tell me all this hero stuff hasn't left you with some great stories. Come on, I want you to thrill me with your exploits"

"Thrill you with my exploits". Oliver smiled as he repeated the phrase. "Well, maybe we have been up to one or two things, but nothing special"

"Oliver Queen, if you've come here to play with me", Chloe warned, as she went back to her seat. She turned back toward her computer screen in a very deliberate way, and resumed her typing.

Oliver took a couple of paces towards her a placed a hand on each of her shoulders.

"Hey, I'm only playing. Forgive me"

He turned the chair round so that it faced him. He squatted down in front of her and put on his best pleading face.

"Please?"

"Do you think those eyes are going to work on me, Queen?"

"Absolutely"

She smiled. "You don't change, do you?"

"Never"

He got up and took a seat next to Chloe's desk.

"So how is Clark?"

"Oh, he's fine. Still wrestling with the potential superhero stuff, but you know Clark. How about the boys?"

"They're good. They send their best to you and Clark". There was a pause. "And Lois?"

"She's good, yeah, she's good". There was an extra note of lightness in Chloe's tone, an over-compensation for what was not being said.

There was another pause, each considering how best to move the conversation forward out of its momentary impasse.

"You should go and see her". There was no use dancing around the subject, thought Chloe, best to hit it head on.

"No…. I can't", the young man said quietly, the assurance of the early part of their meeting having evaporated.

"She misses you, you know that?". Chloe tried to offer reassurance.

"No, this way is the best for both of us". He seemed certain, but his tone had a sadness to it that was alien to the normally self-confident Oliver Queen.

"Besides, there isn't time. This is just a flying visit, Chloe, I'm here on business"

"Business? Queen Industries business or hooded green fighter for justice business?"

A smile broke on Oliver's face. He didn't need to say anymore.

"A mission!", Chloe's excitement was almost childlike.

"Yeah, a mission". Oliver pulled his chair a little closer to hers, and looked around to see if anyone was listening. In the noise of the newsroom there was no danger of anyone being able to make out their conversation.

"We've got a mole in Lex's operation. He's been feeding us information for two months, information that has been really useful"

"Who is he?"

"We don't know – but everything he's told us has been on the level. We've been able to inflict some serious damage on Lex in the last few weeks. And now he wants to meet – says he's got something big that he can only communicate face to face"

Chloe frowned. "Does he know you are, well, you know, the guy with the fetish for green leather?"

Oliver smiled. "No, all his communication has been with the Green Arrow. And that is who he is going to meet tonight"

"Tonight? What about back up? Where are the other guys?"

"They're busy on another mission. So its just me"

Again a frown betrayed Chloe's concern.

"Sounds like a trap to me"

"No, this guy's legit – Luthor has taken too many hits for him to be anything other than totally straight. But just in case, I've taken out a little insurance". Oliver reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small electronic device, no bigger than an ipod. He handed it to Chloe.

"It's a tracking device. We've all been implanted with a tracker, so if something goes wrong, the cavalry know where to charge"

"But there is no cavalry"

"That's where you come in"

"Me?"

"Yeah. You're my cavalry tonight, Chloe Sullivan. I want you to monitor my location and if things go wrong, call in Clark and the guys."

Chloe looked dubiously at Oliver.

Oliver stood up. "Look, it will be fine. This guy's legit, so nothing is going to go wrong. And tomorrow you and I can sit down and talk about old times"

He took a couple of steps away from her desk, and then turned.

"Just turn it on at eleven. I'll call you when I'm done, and we sort out lunch. Keep working on the Pulitzer!"

And with that Oliver strode out of the newsroom. Chloe looked after him, and then down at the device she had been given. She hoped Oliver was right, and that everything would go smoothly. Yet her journalist's instinct was nagging her, and telling her something was just not right.


	3. Chapter 3:Captured

Chapter Three: Captured

As Oliver put on his leathers later that evening he couldn't shake the slight feeling of unease that nagged at the back of his mind. He'd exuded confidence when he'd been with Chloe, but the truth was he too had some doubts about this mysterious source. Everything said the guy was legit – he clearly had extensive knowledge of LuthorCorp operations, and every piece of intelligence he'd passed to the team had been accurate in recent weeks. But what if he was a plant? What if Luthor was setting him up? It was a possibility, Oliver couldn't deny it, but he couldn't pass up on the opportunity to get this latest piece of information. If the source was right, it would give him the chance to hit Luthor harder than he'd ever been hit before – maybe even put him out of business for good. Besides, he'd be careful – he was always careful. And Luthor hadn't captured him yet, though it wasn't for want of trying.

Oliver smiled as he remembered the last time he'd met Lex, when he broke Bart out of that LuthorCorp facility. The look of impotent rage on his face – now that was an expression he hoped to see again soon.

He pulled his hood up over his head and put on his shades. As he went to pick up his crossbow he caught a glimpse of himself in the window. He paused for a moment, reflecting on all that had happened over the previous year. He had never felt so alive as he did now – the Green Arrow had given him a sense of fulfilment that he had longed for and which his wealth on its own had never given him.

"This _means_ something", he thought to himself, before turning and making his way out into the night.

* * *

23:15

The illuminated display on Oliver's watch told him that he could expect his mystery informant at any time. He looked back down at the dimly lit road below. The area was deserted, unsurprising given that the rendezvous location was in an area of Metropolis that had seen better days. Once this had been a centre of industry, but now all that was left were the dilapidated shells of buildings which once teemed with workers. The only people who passed this way at night were the occasional patrols by the private security firms employed to ensure that the city's drug addicts didn't take up residence.

Oliver had taken up a position on a low roof not far from the meet point. He'd done a thorough reconnaissance before assuming his current position, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Those nagging doubts were going to be proved wrong after all.

Suddenly the sound of a car broke the silence. Oliver tensed, his senses becoming more acute as he waited to see whether this heralded the arrival of his contact. As he waited a car turned into the road and moved steadily towards his position. It stopped one building away from where Oliver knelt, hidden in the shadows, the engine and lights cutting out. As Oliver watched a man got out and went around the back of the vehicle to the trunk. For a moment his view was obscured as the man lifted something from out of the back of the car, but then he could see.

A woman.

Her hands bound behind her back and her mouth taped shut, a woman now stood shaking next to the car. Her jacket was ripped, and tears ran down her face, which was etched with fear. She struggled against the man, but he held her tightly by her hair as he closed the trunk. He then started to drag her towards some waste ground located next to the warehouse where Oliver was located.

Oliver barely hesitated. It was clear what was about to take place, and he knew what he had to do. Even if it meant losing the contact, well, that would have to be. There would be other nights for meets – this woman needed her now.

He leapt down from his rooftop location and moved around the side of the building to where the man had dragged the woman. He had already thrown her to the ground, and she was pleading into her gag.

"Let her go"

The man turned, to find the Green Arrow aiming a crossbow bolt directly at his head. He paused for a moment, and then raised his hands, letting the woman fall to the ground.

"Now step away"

The man did as he was ordered, never once taking his eyes off the crossbow grasped in Oliver's hands.

Oliver took a few steps towards the man. He then ordered him to put his hands on his head, and to drop to his knees. Again, the man complied, but as Oliver circled round him he was unsettled by the half smile that seemed to be hovering on the man's lips.

Oliver pulled out some plastic twine and tied the man's hands behind his back.

"You're going to pay for this, green boy", said the man, his voice calm and assured.

"That's what they all say", replied Oliver, as he pushed the man on to his stomach.

Confident that the man was secure, Oliver then moved over to the woman. She was still shaking as she lay on the ground, almost curled into a ball.

"Here, it's OK, let me help you", said Oliver, as he gently pulled the tape from the woman's mouth and cut away the rope that bound her hands. He then helped her to her feet, holding her to take care that she did not fall.

"Are you OK?", said Oliver, as the woman appeared to begin to recover.

"Yes… yes, thank you", she replied, struggling to regain her voice. "He was going to …to….". Again the tears began to well up in her eyes.

"I know, but you're safe now. It's going to be alright". Oliver hugged the woman to his chest, trying to reassure her.

"It sure is, sucker"

In an instant the woman's voice had changed. Oliver released her, but before he had time to react he was aware of her jamming some sort of device against his chest.

Pain. Overwhelming, immeasurable pain. Oliver stood as if rooted to the spot, unable to speak as the electricity from the taser coursed through his body. He dropped the crossbow and looked in horror at the woman, who held the taser firmly against his chest. It only lasted for a few seconds, but to Oliver it seemed like an eternity – eventually the electricity ceased to flow into the stricken man's body, and he fell lifeless to the ground.

* * *

Voices.

Oliver could hear voices. He struggled to tune into his surroundings. Where was he? What had happened? The man, the woman, the taser…it all flooded back to him in a split second.

He was on the ground. It was dark. He quickly realised that he could only have been out for a few seconds. Lying on his stomach, he turned his head to take in more of what was going on.

His crossbow!

It was lying just a couple of feet away. Oliver stretched out his arm, his fingers straining to reach the weapon.

"I don't think so, green boy"

The man's voice sounded above him. Suddenly Oliver was aware of hands grabbing his arms and legs. As his hands and feet were bound he tried to struggle, but it was pointless; the taser shock had left him weak, and his captors clearly knew what they were doing. Oliver realised this was a professional operation.

"Not such a tough guy now, are we green boy?", said the man, as he finished binding Oliver's hands.

Oliver did not reply, but instead focused his attention on a new set of footsteps walking towards them. He tried to look up, but darkness and his position on the ground meant that he could see no more than a pair of polished shoes and the bottom half of an expensive suit.

"Excellent work, Mr Stadler", said the man with the polished shoes. Oliver had expected it to be Lex, but this was an English voice, refined and cold.

"Who are you?", said Oliver, stretching his neck so that he could lift his head from the ground.

"You don't speak unless you're given permission, green boy", said the first man. A hand grabbed the back of Oliver's head and pushed it back into the ground.

"There will be time for that later, Mr Stadler. Scan him"

Oliver listened intently as his head was held on the ground. A faint humming sound could be heard, moving closer and then moving away again. After fifteen or so seconds the hum turned into a high pitched whine.

"Remove it"

There was a pause and then suddenly Oliver felt a searing pain in his left shoulder. He let out a cry of agony as he felt a knife cut deep into his flesh.

They'd found the tracking device.

"We wouldn't want anyone to come to the party uninvited, now would we?", said the English voice.

Oliver said nothing.

"Sedate him"

Again a pause, and then Oliver's head was lifted from the ground. Again he caught a glimpse of the woman, who grinned back at him.

"Time for my hero to go to sleep", she said as she pressed a damp rag over Oliver's mouth and nose.

Chloroform. Oliver recognised the scent, and struggled for a moment. Then everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4: Where Are You?

Thanks to those who have reviewed - encouragement is always welcome! Lots of Ollie angst to come - hope you keep reading!

Chapter Four: Where Are You?

As Chloe drove through the streets of Metropolis she was filled with an overpowering sense of anxiety. It was nearly four in the morning, and the city was at its quietest; only at where two major roads intersected was there any sign of life, with gangs of youths hanging around in hooded tops. Chloe's car attracted their attention as it swept past, but when it became clear she was neither the cops nor a local dealer they quickly lost interest.

The tracking device sat wedged next to the satellite navigation in front of her. The signal was clear and distinct, giving a location in an old industrial area of the city. It was not the device that was the source of Chloe's concern, but the fact that the signal had not moved since she had turned it on nearly five hours previously. At first she had not been worried; stakeouts often meant staying in one place for a long period of time. But as the hours passed her concerns had grown, particularly when the call that Oliver promised did not materialise. She tried to convince herself that there was some reasonable explanation – maybe the tracking device wasn't working properly, maybe the meeting was taking longer than expected – but as dawn approached her sense of foreboding meant that she could resist no longer. She had grabbed the tracker and leapt into her car, determined to find answers to the questions that were turning around and around in her head.

She thought back to her meeting with Oliver earlier in the day. It had been so good to see him, to see that smile once more. She kicked herself inside for a second time when she thought of how she had hugged him – had it been a little too much? Did he know? Of course not. He did not think about her in that way, she was sure of that. And that was how it must stay – he must never know. She couldn't bear the thought of him finding out the truth about her feelings, as it would place a barrier between them which she would not be able to endure. Friends it would always be, as a friendship meant a closeness which the truth could only harm.

The city became a little darker as Chloe drove into the industrial area where the tracker indicated Oliver to be. The street lights were fewer, but she was still able to navigate her way through the deserted warehouses. Why did secret meetings always have to be in places like this, she thought to herself. Because they are places like this, stupid, came back the answer.

At last she pulled up next to a warehouse. It seemed like all the others – characterless, vast, dark. But the tracker was clear – this was where Oliver should be. She looked out of the car window, hoping to see some sign of life, maybe even Oliver striding towards her, but there was nothing. Her heart beating a little more loudly in her chest, she picked up a torch from beside her on the passenger seat and got out of the car.

It seemed unnervingly quiet. There was the sound of traffic in the far distance, but in a city such as Metropolis stillness was unusual, and it added to Chloe's feeling of discomfort. She told herself to pull herself together, and set off around the side of the warehouse.

For fifteen minutes she searched, but in vain. The area was deserted, and in a strange way this reassured Chloe. In her wildest imaginings she'd seen herself coming across Oliver's body lying in a pool of blood, but there was nothing. Perhaps the tracking device had malfunctioned, after all. Perhaps when she got home there would be a message on her answering machine, demanding lunch and telling her that all her worries were for nothing.

And then she saw it. On the ground, a few yards from the warehouse, something metallic was caught by the beam of her torch. She went over and bent down, gingerly picking up a small electronic device. She peered at it for a moment, and then her stomach turned. She ran back to the car and flung open the door, grabbing the tracker from beside the gps.

The signal had moved.

Chloe gasped. There could be no doubt about – she was holding in the palm of her hand the tracking device that had been implanted into Oliver. That was bad enough, but the light of her torch confirmed what she feared – the device was smeared with blood.

Little short of panic gripped Chloe as thoughts tumbled into her mind. It had been a trap, but set by who? Lex? What had happened? Where was Oliver?

She looked up and down the street, a sense of helplessness overwhelming her. Somewhere in this city someone had got Oliver, and she had no way of finding him.

* * *

Cold. 

As Oliver slowly came to the first feeling he had was a sense of coldness. The air was cold, and so was the hard concrete floor on which he lay. For a moment his mind whirled, trying to process what had happened, but then it was all devastatingly clear – he had been captured.

He opened his eyes. The room was small and featureless, a single bulb hanging from the ceiling struggling to provide enough light. Oliver went to move to take in more of his surroundings, but found he couldn't. He looked down to observe the bindings that wrapped around his body. Not only were his hands and feet bound, but extra rope had been used to tie his knees together and bind his arms to his sides. Duct tape had been wrapped a couple of times around his mouth, no doubt to prevent him calling for help on the journey here.

Where was here? He had no idea. In fact he had dangerously little information about his current predicament. He had no idea how long he'd been out – hours? days?

He became aware of a stinging feeling in his shoulder. The tracking device! They'd cut out the tracker, so Chloe wouldn't be able to find him. These guys knew what they were doing.

Chloe had been right about the trap, and so had that little voice in his head. But he'd gone ahead anyway. Somehow he'd thought himself invulnerable, but this time he'd been wrong. And of all the traps to fall for! He cursed his own stupidity.

And then it hit him. The light in this room – it was normal, unfiltered. Oliver's heart sank as he realised not only had his shades been removed, but his hood had been pulled back. He was helpless and exposed. He had always feared it might come to this, but now the time had come he couldn't quite take it in.

Footsteps.

Oliver tensed as he had a number of footsteps outside the room, moving ever closer. A key turning in a lock, and then the door swung open.

The man who had staged the fake attack on the girl stood in the doorway, a broad grin on his face.

"Well, looks like pretty boy has finally finished his beauty sleep", he sneered.

He walked into the room, followed by two other men. Oliver stared up at them, trying not to betray his fear through his eyes. One of the men was well built, clearly hired muscle. The other wore a suit, and this Oliver instantly realised was the brains behind the operation, the man with the English voice.

"Get him up", ordered the Englishman.

The other two each grabbed Oliver by the arms and hauled him to his feet. They held him as he faced the man in the suit.

"I hope you are finding your new surroundings acceptable", said the Englishman. "I realise that they are not what you are used to, but I can assure it is only a temporary arrangement."

Oliver looked back at the man, again trying to betray no emotion through his eyes.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Mr Brown, the organiser of this operation. You, of course, are the Green Arrow". A half smile formed on the man's lips. "But you'll excuse me if I don't use your alias. I prefer to be up front, don't you, Mr Oliver Queen?"


	5. Chapter 5: Creating Consumer Interest

Thanks to those who have taken time to review - I'm glad you are enjoying it so far. I've got many ideas about where to take this, most of which involve a lot of angst. Hope you continue to enjoy!

Chapter Five: Creating Consumer Interest

At the sound of his name Oliver's eyes widened slightly - it sounded somehow strange coming from this man's lips. He had always known exposure was a possibility, but now that it had happened it seemed unreal. Yet this was real, this was happening, and Oliver tried to stay focused, knowing that he would need all his reserves of physical and mental strength for whatever his captors had in mind.

Oliver's response had been over in a split second, but it had not escaped Brown's attention.

"Yes Mr Queen, I know who you are. In my business it pays to cultivate contacts in the police, so it was a simple matter to access their records in order to run a facial recognition scan. Not that I wouldn't have found out quickly in any case, given your reputation." The man's tone was calm and businesslike, but he did not take his eyes off his captive. He was in control, and he wanted his prey to know it.

"I know all about you, Mr Queen", he continued. "Multi-millionaire CEO of Queen Industries, the playboy philanthropist who leads a jet-set lifestyle and is rarely out of the society columns of the best newspapers. I wonder what those society photographers would pay to get a photo of their poster boy now, Mr Queen?"

A grunt of approval emanated from Stadler.

"But I am being rude, Mr Queen. Allow me to introduce my colleagues, Mr Stadler and Mr Weir. They will be catering to your every need during your stay with us, isn't that right Mr Stadler?"

Suddenly Stadler grabbed Oliver's hair and jerked his head back. He brought his face close to Oliver's ear, so that he could feel the man's warm breath on his neck.

"I'm going to make sure you have the time of your life, pretty boy", whispered Stadler, little more than inch from Oliver's face.

"So, perhaps we should begin. I'm sure that you have many questions, and I like to keep my guests fully informed." Brown looked at Stadler. "Bring him."

Brown turned and left the room. Weir and Stadler followed, dragging Oliver between them. Oliver tried to take in as much as possible as he was taken down a narrow corridor. He noticed two doors on the left, but there were no windows, and no obvious points of escape. After a few seconds the corridor opened out into a much larger space, with crates and old machinery piled up randomly along the walls. Lighting was limited, except in one corner where Oliver could see some chairs and a TV. On one of them he spotted a familiar figure – the woman who he had tried to rescue, the woman who had shocked him with the taser and who was responsible for his current plight.

The woman looked up, a smile forming on her face as she saw Oliver's helpless figure being held by Stadler and Weir. They came to a halt a few feet from her as she got up and walked over to him.

She placed a hand gently on Oliver's cheek and tilted her head slightly, her face forming an expression of mock concern.

"Awww, is my leather lovely all tied up? And you being my hero and all". She ran her hand down his neck and onto his chest, where she lingered for a moment. "I'm so looking forward to getting to know you better, Mr Queen, you being one of America's most eligible bachelors". She smiled, and looked down to her other hand. Oliver followed her gaze and saw she was holding a magazine, its pages folded back to reveal a photo of Oliver taken at a charity ball two months before.

"I love the tux, but this tight leather look, its so much more you", she purred, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You I'm sure remember the fourth member of my team", interrupted Brown. "Allow me to introduce Miss Carly Silverman, aspiring actress. Unfortunately Hollywood has yet to recognise her talents, but after her performance tonight, well, I think you'll agree she is destined for great things."

"Maybe you could put a word in for me", said Carly, stepping up close to Oliver. "I'm sure you know _all_ the right people."

"Alas, I don't think Mr Queen will be attending any more charity balls", said Brown.

Stadler again grunted his approval of Brown's humour.

The woman withdrew her hand from Oliver's chest, and again tilted her head with fake concern.

"Shame. Guess you won't be around to see me pick up my Oscar."

At that even the controlled Brown allowed himself a momentary smile.

The men dragged Oliver a few more feet towards what looked like an upended table. It didn't take Oliver long to spot the straps fixed to its sides, and to guess what was coming next. He felt some strength returning to his muscles after his long time on the cell floor, and for the first time he started to struggle against his captors.

Almost immediately Stadler aimed a crippling blow at Oliver's stomach, forcing him to bend double in agony. He struggled to catch his breath as it felt as though all the air had been forced from his lungs.

"Now don't be uncooperative, Mr Queen. It really is pointless and it does irritate Mr Stadler here", said Brown.

As if to emphasise the point a taser appeared a few inches from Oliver's face, a bolt of electricity crackling across its surface.

"Anymore trouble and you'll get a dose of this, rich boy", said Stadler.

The men set about methodically untying Oliver and strapping him to the table. Oliver briefly thought about trying to make a run for it, but it was pointless. His muscles were stiff and he felt weak after his prolonged period of captivity. Besides, the men were professionals and never allowed him sufficient freedom to make a move. And the threat of the taser was always there – Oliver knew that this guy Stadler didn't need much excuse to use it.

As the straps were tightened around Oliver's wrists and ankles and an additional belt was passed across his chest, Brown picked up Oliver's crossbow form a nearby table.

"Impressive equipment, Mr Queen. But then I suppose with your resources you can afford to fund the secret life of a superhero, can't you?" There was a hint of a sneer in his voice.

Eventually the men finished and stepped away from the table. Oliver tested his new bonds, but they were quite secure.

Brown picked up a knife and walked across to the table. For a moment he toyed with the knife in his hands, making a point of testing its sharpness by placing his thumb at its point. He then placed the knife against Oliver's chest, slowly moving it up until it rested against the trapped man's neck. All the time he watched Oliver's eyes, hoping to gain a reaction. Oliver did not give him the satisfaction.

"Time for us to talk, don't you think?"

And with that he carefully cut the duct tape which stretched around Oliver's mouth, before pulling it off with some force.

Brown took a few steps away from the table as Oliver stretched his jaw and took in a couple of gulps of breath.

"No questions, Mr Queen? You surprise me."

Oliver was determined to show no fear. He now had the power of speech, and he intended to use it to turn the tables on his kidnapper in whatever small way he could.

"Well, as this is the moment when you reveal to me your plan, I didn't see the point in asking." Oliver tried to sound as calm and as assured as possible; hopefully his flippancy would unsettle Brown.

Brown smiled. "Ah, Mr Queen, you have been watching too many TV shows, I think. Or perhaps reading too many comics…yes, that's it, reading too many comics. The secret identity, the absurd costume – why, you are Metropolis's very own Bruce Wayne!"

"Hey, show some respect to the costume, Brown – you're just jealous you can't carry off this look."

A fist sent Oliver's head flying to one side. He'd not seen Stadler come up next to him.

"Shut that smart mouth, boy. And it's Mr Brown to you."

"Calm down, Mr Stadler. Mr Queen's bravado amuses me", said Brown. He is, after all, quite right, this is the part where I reveal my plan."

"I'm guessing money", said Oliver, stretching his jaw gingerly and checking to see if he'd lost any teeth.

"Perceptive, Mr Queen, perceptive. But not your money, I think. I have to admit that when I discovered who I'd caught in my net I did contemplate a ransom, but then that it was your little friends will be hoping for, and I don't particularly want a visit from …who is it? Aquaboy, Cyclops and Speedy Gonzales?"

Oliver did not reply. The fact that he know about the guys added to his unease.

"No. I am what I think you Americans call, a bounty hunter. I make my money by collecting rewards. I've worked extensively in Africa and the Middle East, making people disappear from public life, only to reappear in a government cell. Human rights campaigners, aid workers, opposition politicians, anyone the authorities are prepared to pay a price for. You, I have to admit, are something of a departure for me, but then the price I will get for you will greatly exceed anything I've ever received before."

Brown looked at Oliver, waiting for a response.

"What, can't you guess, Mr Queen? I'm sure you can."

"Luthor."

Brown clapped his hands in mock appreciation of Oliver's deduction.

"Lex Luthor, Mr Queen. When I heard about the bounty he'd put on your head, well, it was too good to miss. And what do you think he is going to say when he finds that the man who has been blowing up all his installations is none other than his old school buddy, Oliver Queen?."

Oliver scowled at Brown, but said nothing.

"Now at present he doesn't know I have you in my possession, which leads me to why you are currently strapped to that table. I'm hoping to raise his price, but I need something to whet his appetite, to capture his attention."

Oliver was aware of Stadler wheeling some sort of device up to the table. Wires hung from what appeared to be some sort of meter, and to Oliver's alarm Stadler started to attach the wires to his body. Eventually six were attached, two to Oliver's forehead, two to his chest and two to his feet.

"Hey, what is this? What are you going to do?", said Oliver, trying to hide the fear that was started to build in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm going to make you a star, Mr Queen", said Brown, as Carly and Weir erected a camera a few feet away from the table.

"I've often been told I should be in movies. Make sure you get my best side, will you?"

"Very amusing, but I'm not sure that this film will show you in your best light."

Eventually the preparations were complete. Carly stood behind the camera, waiting for the signal. Stadler stood next to the machine, looking expectantly at Brown.

Brown walked over to his captive. To Oliver's surprise, he was carrying the Green Arrow's shades. He put them on Oliver, and then pulled the hero's hood back up over his head, so that once again he was the Green Arrow. Before Oliver had chance to react, Brown took a few steps back, and then nodded towards Stadler.

Suddenly Oliver's body arched in agony as thousands of volts coursed through his body. He strained against the straps that held him to the table as every muscle and nerve ending contorted in pain. He pulled to the left and to the right, trying to escape the inescapable, before letting out a howl of agony.

After what seemed like an eternity to Oliver Stadler turned a knob on the machine and the electricity disappeared as quickly as it had started. Oliver slumped back onto the table, sweat pouring from his body.

"Did you get that, Miss Silverman?", asked Brown, his businesslike tone not wavering.

"No problem, Mr Brown."

"Well you'll be glad to know I don't need a second take, Mr Queen. And the scream was just what I was looking for – very dramatic."

"But the hood, the shades…I …", gasped Oliver.

"I want to create a sense of excitement, Mr Queen. When your friend Lex sees this he is going to be overwhelmed with curiosity, the need to get his hands on his arch enemy and unmask his foe. Then, of course, I will be able to name my price."

Brown then went over to the camera and removed the memory card. He picked up a small box from a table and moved towards the door.

"Well I must leave you now, Mr Queen. This Green Arrow commercial deserves an audience, don't you think? I'm sure Mr Stadler will look after you – I think he is keen to catch up on old times." He paused for a moment. "You know those comic books you like to read, Mr Queen? I suppose this is the point where the costumed avenger breaks free of his bonds and kills the bad guys. Well I'm afraid this is real life, my friend, and in real life, sometimes heroes lose."

He observed his captive, but Oliver simply stared straight ahead, not wishing to acknowledge his tormentor.

Brown indicated to Stadler to join him at the door. He lowered his voice.

"Do what you want with him Stadler, but remember, I want him kept alive. Luthor won't pay good money for a corpse. And no marks to the face – I don't want to hand over someone Luthor can't recognise. Do you understand?"

Stadler nodded, and with that Brown turned and left.

Stadler walked slowly back to the table. Oliver, still sweating form his previous ordeal, eyed him nervously.

"Well pretty boy, looks like the business is over. Now the fun can really start."


	6. Chapter 6: I want to see the Merchandise

Thanks to those who have reviewed - every bit of encouragement helps!

Hope you enjoy Chapter Six, where deals are done...

Chapter Six: I want to see the Merchandise

Lex Luthor sat at his desk in the LuthorCorp building, seemingly lost in thought. It was mid-afternoon and he had a number of meetings scheduled, but much to the silent irritation of his assistant he had cancelled them all. He had given him no reason, and simply told him absently to rearrange his diary. He now sat next door trying to restore some order to the Luthor schedule, whilst Lex sat alone in his office, his face carrying a slight frown of concentration.

In his hands he held an arrow, the tip glinting silver against the sunlight that streamed through the windows behind him. The remainder of the arrow was coloured emerald green, and it was a design that Lex found quite unmistakeable. He held it carefully at each end, wondering what it meant. It had been waiting for him when he had returned from his lunch meeting, sealed inside a wooden box similar to the type once used to hold duelling pistols. Delivered by express carrier, there was no sender's name – simply a card carrying a single word: _intrigued?_

And Lex was intrigued. Why was someone anonymously sending him the calling card of the Green Arrow? Was it some kind of joke perpetrated by the man who had in the last few months jeopardised countless LuthorCorp operations with his little band of juvenile delinquents? At first the activities of the Justice League had been little more than an irritation, but with every attack Lex's frustration had turned to something close to hate.

Being beaten was one thing, but the humiliation he felt as this latter day Robin Hood destroyed his 33.1 network piece by piece was unbearable.

He thought back to his face-to-face encounter with the Green Arrow which had taken place in that very office. The memory of being held at the point of a crossbow bolt caused Lex's frown to deepen – he did not like anyone to have an advantage over him, still less an enemy making demands in his own office as if he were a child back at school. Although he did not like to acknowledge it, the Green Arrow was getting to him as the bullies had once done back at Excelsior Academy. Intelligence and cunning had seen him triumph then, and they would see him triumph now, Lex reassured himself; the vigilante's arrogance would eventually lead him to make a mistake, and that would be when he would strike.

There was a knock at the door, and Lex's assistant nervously took one step into the room.

"I thought I gave instructions I was not to be disturbed", said Lex, not bothering to look in his direction.

"I'm sorry sir, but there is a man here who says he would like to see you."

"I thought I told you to clear the afternoon."

"He's not on your schedule, sir. But he says he is here about the contents of the box you received at lunch."

At this last comment Lex turned his head sharply towards the door. There was a momentary pause, and then Lex put the arrow down on his desk.

"I think you had better show him in, Mr Royle", he said, standing and coming out from behind his desk. He didn't know what to expect, but he knew he wanted to be a dominant presence in the room when he met his mystery visitor.

A few moments later a well dressed man in his mid-forties entered the room. His hair was greying at the temples, and he was of average height and build. Wearing a sober suit and a conservative tie, he appeared like any other Metropolis businessman. Certainly not a candidate to be the Green Arrow, Lex thought to himself, not that he really expected his enemy to walk in and present himself on a platter.

"Good afternoon, Mr Luthor," said the man, offering his hand.

"Good afternoon, Mr…?", replied Lex, shaking his guest's hand.

"Brown."

"Please take a seat, Mr Brown", said Lex, gesturing to the chair which faced his desk.

"Is that an English accent I detect?", asked Lex as he returned to his seat.

"Ah yes, I only have to speak and my cover is blown", replied Brown. The double meaning of his words did not escape Luthor.

"And what brings you to Metropolis, Mr Brown?". Lex was determined to allow his visitor to make the first move.

Brown looked at the arrow sitting prominently on the desk.

"I see you have received my little gift."

"I have, and I confess I am 'intrigued'"said Lex, picking the arrow from the table. "I must thank you, Mr Brown. The craftsmanship is quite impressive – one might say unique."

Brown smiled.

"It belongs to a mutual acquaintance of ours." Brown paused momentarily, to give his next words added impact. "I believe you know him as the Green Arrow."

Brown's tone remained businesslike, but both men knew the significance of what had just been said, and the fact that an interesting conversation was about to begin. Again there was a pause in the discussion, as Lex contemplated how to respond. Brown did not give him the opportunity, but instead continued.

"I believe that you are keen to meet up with him again – to relive old times? And that you would be prepared pay to bring about this reunion?"

Brown was clearly making reference to the bounty that he had placed on the Green Arrow's head some months before.

"I'm listening."

"What if I were to tell you that at present the Green Arrow is enjoying my hospitality, and that for the right price I might be able to arrange for him to spend some time as a guest of LuthorCorp?"

Lex replaced the arrow on the table. His mind was racing at what Brown was saying, but he had no intention of betraying his interest. He was determined to stay measured and calm.

"I would say that I would be interested in such a proposition, but that I would need some more evidence to support your claims."

"Of course, Mr Luthor. I would expect nothing else from a shrewd businessman such as yourself. Perhaps this might go some way towards reassuring you of my good intentions."

Brown handed Luthor a small memory card. Lex took it, and looked inquisitively at Brown.

"I think you might find the contents of that most enlightening."

Lex inserted the card into his laptop. After a few moments the contents loaded, and Lex moved his mouse to click "play".

For fifteen seconds Lex watched as the scene which had been recorded with Oliver earlier in the day played out before him. The image was not perfect, but he was able to see clearly the Green Arrow restrained on a table, and then his body twisting as electricity shot through his body. The scream indicated that this was no staged scene – this was real.

"Interesting", he said as the film concluded. As his excitement grew so too did his determination to stay icy cool.

"I thought you might find that….entertaining."

"I don't think I've heard of you before, Mr Brown. What line of business are you in?" asked Lex, determined to find out more about the man who seemed to promise an answer to his prayers.

"You may not have heard of me, Mr Luthor. I work around the world, but my activities rarely bring me to the United States. Let's just say…. I'm a problem solver. Where people are having problems I fix them, without any need to trouble the authorities. I heard that you were having trouble with our mutual friend, and I knew that I would be able to help. His Robin Hood antics have cost you a great deal of money, I gather."

"He's no Robin Hood, Mr Brown", responded Lex sharply. "He is a terrorist who deserves everything he has coming to him." Lex's tone carried a hint of anger, as for the first time his veneer of calm briefly slipped.

"Whatever you say, Mr Luthor. In my business I don't make judgements on who is right and who is wrong – I simply deliver what I promise."

There was a silence, the longest of the conversation so far.

"I'm guessing that you are not going to tell me now who this Green Arrow is?", said Lex eventually.

"Ahh, now that would ruin the surprise, wouldn't it? You get to unmask the wannabe hero when I get the two million you've agreed."

Lex smiled as at last Brown got to the subject of money.

"I think the price I've promised was one and a half million, Mr Brown."

"It was, but I have people to pay, Mr Luthor – my services do not come cheap. And I can assure you that when you pull back that hood you won't be disappointed."

Lex stood and walked around his desk. Brown also stood, and for a moment the two men faced each over. Eventually Lex offered his hand.

"I think we can do business with each other, Mr Brown."

Brown smiled and took Luthor's hand.

"I always knew it was going to be a pleasure working with you, Mr Luthor. I sense that you and I…we are kindred spirits."

He turned and started to walk slowly towards the door, Lex walking alongside him.

"I will be in touch to arrange delivery. Our friend is going to be so glad we've met", said Brown.

Lex halted at the door.

"There is one final condition to the deal", he said. "I want to see the merchandise – in person. Only then do I arrange for payment to be made."

Brown paused for a moment. He knew that Lex could be planning to trick him, to take his prisoner without handing over the money. But he doubted it – he'd studied Luthor, and it was not his style. Besides, if he double-crossed him he had a back-up plan.

"Of course, a showing can be arranged."

"At a location of my choosing"

"That will not be a problem"

The two men smiled at each other, each trying to read the other's thoughts.

"I look forward to hearing from you to make further arrangements", said Lex, opening the door.

"Again, a pleasure", said Brown, who then made his way out of the room.

Lex closed the door calmly behind him. He paused with his hand on the handle, thinking for a moment. To his surprise he suddenly became aware of his heart beat, which was pumping slightly faster than normal.

He walked quickly back to his desk, and sat in front of his laptop. A shake of the mouse removed the screensaver, and he once again pressed "play". He watched fascinated as the film played a second time, and now he allowed a broad smile to form on his lips.

He sat back in his chair, a sense of contentment flowing through him. The Green Arrow would soon be his, and that sense of humiliation, the humiliation he'd often felt at school and which this costumed freak had reawakened, would at last be laid to rest.

* * *

Sorry, but you'll have to wait for the next chapter to see what's happened to Ollie. Also expect to read more of Chloe, Clark and the Justice League guys in the near future... 


	7. Chapter 7: Welcome to Hell, Green Arrow

Thanks to all of those who are still reading, and especially Quicksilver19, Farmgt, Cass of the East, Kyalpn, Jordan-Daniel, Bailey1ak and Rockchick900 for their reviews - your encouragement is a real spur ot keep on writing!

This a very angsty chapter, so don't read on if it is not your thing.

Chapter Seven: Welcome to Hell, Green Arrow

Two to three minutes had passed since Brown had left the warehouse, and on the surface it appeared as if a strange calm had descended on those who remained. Carly and Weir had dismantled the camera equipment, and then returned to their base in one corner. Carly lounged across the couch, kicking off her shoes and lighting a cigarette before picking up the magazine she had previously used to taunt Oliver. Weir slumped in a chair and opened a can of beer before immersing himself in the flickering images that came from the cheap television.

Stadler perched on a table a few feet away from where Oliver lay restrained on the table. The Green Arrow's equipment lay next to him, and Stadler appeared to be idly going through the collection of holsters, knives and straps which had been taken from the hero earlier in the day. He had plenty of time, and he knew from his days working in Intelligence that the waiting, the not knowing, could be psychologically crippling for a prisoner. He wanted Oliver to sweat for a bit, to lose some of that wise guy self-confidence which Brown had found so amusing.

Oliver did not take his eyes from Stadler. He had recovered from the electric shock, and was well aware that now Brown had left he was in real trouble. He was valuable to Brown, and so whilst he was around there would always be a limit on how far his captors would go. But this guy, this guy was another matter. Stadler was clearly a man who enjoyed violence, and without Brown to control him there was no knowing what might lay ahead.

Trying to avoid attracting attention, Oliver strained against the straps which bound him once more.

"Don't bother, pretty boy. Those straps have held stronger than you, so why don't you just rest up, eh? You're gonna need all that superhero strength for what I've got planned for you." Stadler did not look away from the table as he said the words, enjoying the impression of control it gave him.

He had left the crossbow until last. He picked the weapon up, weighing it in his hands and holding it up to the light to seemingly admire its dimensions. After a moment he carried it over to his captive.

"A powerful weapon, a crossbow", he mused, still looking at the device as he stood beside the table. "Take a long time to learn how to use it?"

"Not long if you've got a steady hand and can learn a few basic techniques", said Oliver. "So if I were you I'd stick to the fists – more on your level."

He braced himself for the inevitable punch, but it never came. Instead Stadler chuckled as he pulled back Oliver's hood and once again removed his glasses.

"Still trying to be the funny guy, eh? That's good, that's good", he said as he walked away from the table.

"Must be great being a superhero, saving the world from bad guys and getting all the girls", continued Stadler, his back to Oliver.

"It has its moments, although maybe this isn't one of them", replied Oliver.

"You know I'd love to a superhero", said Stadler, who suddenly whirled around to face Oliver. His legs were slightly apart as if adopting a pose, and one arm stretched out towards Oliver, the hand clutching the crossbow which pointed directly at his head. The Green Arrow's shades covered his eyes.

"Hey, this feels good. What do you think Carly, could I be the next Green Arrow?", said Stadler, not taking his eyes from Oliver.

Carly briefly looked up from her magazine.

"Yeah, great Steve. You really look the part", she said wearily, before returning to her magazine.

"And what about the man himself? Do you think I could make it as a member of the Justice League?" Stadler's voice was slightly raised, betraying the sense of excitement he felt. The final two words were said more slowly, so as to mock his prisoner.

Every muscle in Oliver's body tensed as he faced the crossbow just a few feet away. His eyes moved from the weapon to the face of his tormentor; he wanted to look into his eyes, to see his intentions, but the shades prevented him from doing so. Reason said he would not shoot, but as Oliver repeated this to himself he couldn't prevent himself contemplating the alternative.

For a moment there was a stand-off, both men locked onto each other like a cobra and its prey.

"I wonder whether I could hit a target without those basic techniques", said Stadler. The pause that followed seemed to last an eternity, and then he fired the bolt.

It landed two inches from Oliver's left ear, embedding itself in the table and causing the hero to flinch visibly, much to Stadler's satisfaction.

"Guess you're right. Those basic techniques are important", he said, deliberately adopting a casual tone. "Maybe I'll take it up sometime."

He calmly placed the crossbow and the shades back on the table.

"Is this the crossbow you used when you blew up the LuthorCorp facility at Palgrave?", asked Stadler after a pause. Oliver detected a change in his tone; the playfulness had gone, to be replaced with something harder.

"Is this the crossbow you used when you blew up the LuthorCorp facility at Palgrave?". The question was repeated, Stadler sounding aggressive and demanding.

"Why do you want to know?"

"I want to know because that's where you gave me this." Stadler seemed to spit out the words as he pointed to the large scar which stretched down his face.

Oliver's mind raced back to the Palgrave Operation. It was one of the worst 33.1 facilities they had come across, and they had encountered resistance. Bart had got into trouble with one of the security guards, and Oliver had rescued him, using his crossbow in the process.

"Remember, pretty boy?" Stadler's voice was low, but laced with menace.

It was him! Stadler was that guard! Oliver groaned inwardly as he realised that for his tormentor this was not simply business – this was personal.

"I spent months in hospital because of what happened to me that night.", said Stadler, walking back across towards Oliver.

Oliver knew that he had to try to pacify his captor. "Look, I'm sorry about your injuries. But you knew what was happening in there – someone had to stop it. We had to…"

Oliver's words were cut off as Stadler pulled a gun from inside his jacket and thrust it inside the hero's mouth.

"I don't wanna hear your excuses, pretty boy", shouted Stadler, pushing the barrel further so that it almost reached the back of Oliver's throat. "I spent months thinking about what I'd do to you if I ever got the chance, and now I'm gonna have my payback. Do you understand?"

Oliver lay rooted to the spot, sweat dripping down the sides of his face. He could taste the bitter sweet flavour of his own blood as the barrel of the gun scarred the roof of his mouth.

"Do you understand?", he again demanded.

Slowly Oliver nodded his head.

Stadler's anger seemed to subside, and he pulled the gun from Oliver's mouth. Checking to see that his victim was still wired to the machine, he walked around the table to the control box.

"I'm gonna torture you, boy, and nothing you can say is gonna change that. I'm gonna make you beg for me to stop like the spoilt little rich kid you are."

Oliver realised that it was pointless to try and reason with the man. He tried to brace himself for the inevitable.

Stadler pressed the button.

* * *

It seemed to go on for ever. A grim routine quickly established itself, as Oliver was subjected to shocks of electricity followed by brief periods of respite. At first he had tried not to scream, to deny Stadler the satisfaction of hearing his pain. But after two or three shocks he could not help himself, as every part of his body cried out in agony. The intervals were short, but long enough for his tormentor to pour scorn on him, mocking his helplessness. After some minutes he had started to lose consciousness, but every time he started to drift off Stadler would bring him back to the reality of his nightmare, sometimes with a slap across the face and sometimes by throwing ice cold water over him.

At last the shocks stopped, and Oliver, his body exhausted, slumped against the straps that held him, his head falling forward.

Stadler stood beside him, and pushed his head back against the table.

"Hey, you don't look so good, Mr Queen", he mocked. "We need to do something about that."

He walked across to where Carly and Weir sat. He grabbed Carly's bag from the table, carelessly emptying its contents onto the floor.

"Hey, what are you doing you jerk!", said Carly as Stadler started to sift through an assortment of cosmetics and scraps of paper.

"Here we are!", he said in triumph, holding aloft a lipstick. He then walked back to the table.

"Here, lets see if we can't make you pretty again", said Stadler, attempting to apply the lip gloss to Oliver's face. Oliver instinctively turned his head away, but Stadler grabbed his chin and pulled it back. He roughly smeared the crimson lip gloss onto the man's lips, and then drew red circles onto each of his cheeks. It took only a few seconds, and then he stood back to admire his work.

"Don't you look the prettiest! I think that we need a photo to make sure we remember this moment for ever". At that he pulled out his cell phone and pointed it at his stricken and humiliated captive, pressing a button to capture the image.

He looked at the image on his screen, and then thrust the grotesque image in front of Oliver.

"What do you think Queen? Maybe some of those society magazines will pay me for this, eh?", he gloated.

"Go to hell", whispered Oliver.

"No? Well, maybe you're right. I can see that you're tired, so maybe its time we took a break." With that he started to pull the wires from Oliver's body, before moving on to unbuckling the straps. Eventually Oliver was free, but unable to support himself he slumped to the floor.

"And so the mighty Green Arrow is revealed for what he truly is – a loser", said Stadler. "And we've barely started yet, boy, we've barely started".

He called over to Weir, who pulled himself up from his chair and helped Stadler to get Oliver to his feet. Together they dragged him across the floor and back down the corridor to his cell. He was like dead weight in their hands, his strength and ability to resist sapped by his ordeal on the table. On entering the cell they let him go, and he dropped heavily to the floor unable to move his hand quickly enough to break his fall.

"Tie him up", ordered Stadler. Weir proceeded to bind Oliver's hands behind his back as he lay on his stomach, before moving on to repeat the operation with his feet. He then got up and looked to Stadler, who nodded to indicate he could go.

Stadler observed the young man who lay prostrate before him.

"Hey now, I think we can make you a bit more comfortable", he sneered, picking up another piece of rope. He then proceeded to loop it tightly around Oliver's neck, before stretching it back and tying it to the rope that bound Oliver's hands. The result was that Oliver was left in a stress position, unable to relax for fear that that the rope around his neck would strangle him.

Stadler then reached across to a roll of duct tape that lay discarded on the floor. He tore a strip off and smoothed it firmly across Oliver's mouth.

"There now, maybe its not the Queen penthouse, but it sure comes a close second, don't you think?", gloated Stadler. He squatted down close to Oliver's head and took hold of his hair, pulling his face up so that it was close to his.

"I'll let you into a secret, shall I pretty boy? My friend Weir, he likes you. You know, I mean _really _likes you. I think it must be all that skin-tight leather and that angelic face of yours. I'm thinking that maybe later on he might pay you a little visit, just to get better acquainted, if you know what I mean". Smiling at his own humour, he let go of Oliver's hair and stood up. He then made towards the door, before pausing and turning, determined to make one final taunt.

"Look at you, Queen. You're nothing. Without the money, without the crossbow, without your friends, what are you left with? You're just a poor little rich kid who's reached the end of the line". He paused for a moment. "I tell you one thing, I'm not finished with you yet. I will break you, you have my word on that."

And with that he flipped the light switch and left the room, locking the door behind him and plunging Oliver into darkness.

As the sound of Stadler's footsteps receded down the corridor Oliver suddenly became aware of his heart pumping furiously in his chest. His breathing was heavy and hampered by the gag, and he struggled to calm himself down.

He had survived, that was the main thing. And for as long as he survived there must be hope. But Oliver could not keep from his mind the terrible realisation that perhaps Stadler was right - perhaps he would break.

As the darkness surrounded him, Oliver felt something that he had not felt in many years.

Cold, all-consuming fear.

* * *

Hope you liked it - lots of twists and turns to come in future chapters! 


	8. Chapter 8: We Need a Plan

Time to introduce some more characters, and lots of twists and turns to come. Thanks as always to all who read, and especially those who review.

Chapter Eight: We Need a Plan

It had been eighteen hours since Chloe had discovered the blood-stained tracking device, and her stomach churned now almost as much as it had done when she had picked the transmitter from the ground outside the warehouse. So much had happened since then, and it had all seemed to happen so quickly. Her return to her home, her call to Clark, her signal to Bart, A.C. and Victor, the return of the guys – everything seemed a blur. Time seemed to be flying by, and yet at the same time she was aware of every agonising minute, another minute with no message from Oliver, no signal that he was OK.

She looked across the penthouse apartment. It had been agreed to meet at Oliver's Metropolis home, but the absence of the man himself simply heightened her sense of anxiety. Everything was so familiar – the desk, the weights, the coat of arms – but everything was different. Opposite her the doors to Oliver's secret Green Arrow room were open, revealing the range of weapons with which he fought his struggle against Lex arranged neatly across the wall. There was one space, presumably where the weapon that Oliver had taken with him on his ill-fated mission was normally stored.

"Hey Chloe, can I get you something?"

The voice was Victor's. He stood next to the refrigerator, obviously in the middle of fixing himself a drink.

She gave a half smile. "No, I'm fine, thanks."

Hey dude, fix me a juice, yeah?" The unmistakable voice of A.C. came from the direction of Oliver's weights. He was working out, flexing with a barbell that Chloe thought she would struggle to even lift off the floor.

Oliver's team had arrived three hours before, joining Clark and Chloe in the penthouse. Bart and Clark had almost immediately headed out to do a recon on the area where Oliver had gone missing, hoping to find some clues before the daylight faded. Since that time the three had tried to keep busy, not wishing to give voice to their inner fears. Chloe found the presence of the two men reassuring, but could not help contrasting their careworn expressions with the wisecracking humour of her last encounter with them, before they had rescued Bart from Lex's 33.1 facility. Then the jokes had come thick and fast, but now each man was largely silent, lost in his own thoughts. They owed Oliver a great deal, and she knew they were every bit as worried as she was.

The elevator mechanism sounded, and within half a minute Bart and Clark were pulling back the grille and stepping into the apartment. Three sets of eyes turned expectantly, but the worried faces and Clark's shake of the head told them all they needed to know.

"Nothing man, and we turned that place upside down", said Bart, throwing himself into a chair.

"Not even a clue?" asked Chloe, looking at Clark.

"There was nothing, Chloe. We looked everywhere", said Clark. "Whoever took Oliver, they knew what they were doing."

"Whoever? We know who took him, man. It's Luthor", said Bart, his frustration sounding in his voice.

"You can't be sure of that", replied Clark calmly, casting a glance at Chloe. Bart was the youngest member of the team, and it was clear he had taken Oliver's disappearance the hardest; Clark had taken him with him on the recon so as to keep him busy and focused.

"How can you say that, amigo? Lex has got Oliver, and I say we go in there and bust him out right now!" Bart's frustration was turning to anger.

"And where is 'there'?" asked Victor, like Clark trying to lower the temperature by keeping his voice calm.

"Trust speedy to forget to engage his brain", said A.C. dismissively.

At this Bart leapt from his chair and walked over to face off against the older man.

"I don't hear any ideas coming from you, Fish-Face. All you seem to wanna do is sit around on your scaly ass or work on your pecs."

A.C. took a step towards Bart, glaring at him and squaring up as if he was keen to teach the younger man a lesson.

"Enough! This isn't achieving anything, and it certainly isn't helping Oliver." Clark walked across to the two men and stood next to them, looking at one and then the other. Eventually Bart backed off, and returned to his chair.

Chloe exchanged glances with Clark. The pressure was getting to all of them, and without their leader to guide them these guys were just a few steps away from turning on each other.

"You're both right", she said, winning the attention of everyone in the room. "Lex is our only lead at the moment. Oliver went to meet his mysterious contact in LuthorCorp, and that makes Lex our number one suspect. But we can't just go busting in."

Bart shook his head.

"No, hear me out. We can't just go busting in because we don't know where Oliver is being held. We get this wrong and Oliver could end up getting killed."

There was a moment's silence, no one wishing to say out loud what they were all thinking – that Oliver could already be dead.

"We need a plan", said Victor.

"And a plan needs intelligence", replied Chloe. Suddenly she knew what had to be done.

"Are you guys up for a mission?"

They looked at her.

"Look, the key is Lex. So I say we pay LexCorp a little visit tonight, to see what we can find out."

The men exchanged glances. Chloe's plan made sense, and it was a relief to feel as though they were making progress, even if it eventually led to a dead end.

"You know the drill guys, let's gear up", said Victor.

Bart again leapt from his chair. As he moved to get changed he found himself face to face with A.C., who blocked his path. The big man glared at him for a moment, before grinning and holding up his hand. Bart looked for a moment, smiled and slapped his hand into A.C.'s.

"Sorry, dude", said A.C.

"Yeah man, likewise", replied the teenager, pausing for a moment before adding, "but you're still a Fish Face."

Bart dodged to the side of A.C., leaving the big man shaking his head ruefully at the fact that the younger man had once again had the last word.

Chloe allowed herself a little smile. It seemed more like old times, with the boys preparing for another mission. She just hoped that this raid on LuthorCorp would yield some firm leads, because at the moment they had nothing to go on.

And the clock kept on ticking.

* * *

_So tired_

As Oliver lay on his stomach in the cell he sought to muster all his reserves of mental energy to fight the waves of exhaustion that swept over him. Stadler had left him – how long ago? He had no idea. In fact he did not even know whether it was day or night, such was his sense of disorientation. One thing, however, was clear, and that was that his body needed to rest. The adrenalin that had helped him to survive the torture on the table had now subsided, to be replaced by an aching need to sleep.

But he could not sleep.

The rope that circled his neck and then stretched back to the bonds that held his feet served to pull his head from the floor and left his back arched in a position designed to cause the greatest possible discomfort. It was a classic stress position, as Oliver was well aware – and it prevented him from gaining the rest that his battered body cried out for. Every time his eyes started to flicker and he drifted into unconsciousness his head would fall forward, causing the rope to choke him as it constricted his windpipe. Stadler had known what he was doing when he tied Oliver in this way – it was all part of a sustained assault on the captive's will to resist. Stadler was clearly determined to make good on his promise to break Oliver, and the young man knew it.

Oliver tried to maintain focus. He sought to control his breathing, which was difficult due to his position and the tape that was plastered across his mouth. As he stared in front of him there was only blackness – Stadler had turned off the light, and there was no window to relieve the gloom. He was acutely conscious of the pain that seemed to emanate from every muscle in his body, and he could not help but wonder if he really could endure another session at the hands of this sadist.

So was this it? Was this really the end? He could not believe – surely? And yet Brown was right – who says the hero always has to win? He cursed himself again for his stupidity in allowing himself to fall for such an obvious trap. He should have taken more precautions, he should have listened to Chloe and the guys. But no – he was the Green Arrow, the invincible Green Arrow, the man who emerged unscathed from every operation. Oliver felt bitter as he reflected on his own misplaced confidence.

And he felt so impotent, so helpless – perhaps that was what hurt almost as much as the physical pain he was now enduring. He was the leader of the Justice League, but Stadler was right – when stripped of his weapons he was no better than anyone else. A.C., Victor, Clark – they would all have busted out of this cell hours ago without giving it a second thought. But him – he had no powers. He was an ordinary man, and he had never felt so acutely aware of it.

Enough. Oliver tried to dismiss all negativity from his mind. That was what Stadler wanted, after all – for him to lose the will to fight as he lay here in the darkness. And he would not give in. After all, by now Chloe would be on the case, and she would have called in the guys and Clark. That was some team – if anyone could pull off a rescue, they could. He felt a sense of pride as he thought of what he and the guys had achieved over the last few months, how he had moulded these men and turned them into an effective operational team. The damage they had done to the 33.1 facilities had been immense, and they had given Luthor a serious headache.

At the thought of Lex Oliver's mood changed again. He remembered their last encounters, and could not stop himself thinking of what might lay ahead. In his mind he could see Lex gloating over him, taunting him at his ultimate failure. One thing was certain; if Lex did get hold of him it wouldn't be quick. He'd be tortured, tortured into revealing the locations of the others. Well that he would never do. Oliver made a vow to himself - Whatever lay ahead, he would never betray his friends.

A sound.

Every fibre of Oliver's being tensed as he strained to listen for any clue as to what was happening.

His heart froze as he realised that it was the sound of a key being turned in the lock of the door.


	9. Chapter 9: A Textbook Operation?

Time to move the story on - hope you like the twist in this chapter. Lots more to come!

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Chapter Nine: A Textbook Operation?

"Watchtower, we are in position."

A.C.'s voice came through loud and clear as Chloe sat at the communications console in Oliver's apartment. An hour had passed since the guys had left on the recon mission to the LuthorCorp headquarters, an hour in which Chloe had been left alone with her fears for Oliver's safety. She could not stop herself imagining all the grim possibilities, and it seemed that with every minute that passed her mind was able to conjure up new and even more distressing scenarios. A.C.'s voice was a welcome relief, a sign that they were about to make progress – they were about to fight back.

Time was of the essence. Dawn was fast approaching, and they could not afford to wait another full day before taking advantage of the cover that darkness could provide. LuthorCorp security would be at its weakest at this time, with the night team coming towards the end of a long shift and likely to be tired and careless. The recon should go smoothly, thought Chloe to herself; she just hoped it would yield some precious clues as to Oliver's whereabouts.

"Impulse, are you in position?", asked Chloe.

"Hey, I've been waiting on you guys. What took you so long?"

"Cyborg, are you at the power terminal?"

"Affirmative. Waiting on your signal."

The plan was simple. Cyborg was to take out the electricity supply by hacking into the computers that controlled the power in the area of the LuthorCorp building. Impulse would then take advantage of the loss of power and the failure of the alarm systems to gain access to the building and Luthor's office. He'd then search Lex's personal computer for any clues about Oliver in the four minutes it was estimated it would take for Luthor's men to restore power with the reserve generator, housed in the basement. A.C. and Clark were on standby in case something went wrong, but they hoped to complete the recon without alerting Luthor's men as to their presence; they didn't want Lex knowing that the Justice League was back in town.

"On my mark. Go!" Chloe gave the command to initiate the operation.

* * *

"Hey man, was that a textbook operation or what?"

It had been only forty-five minutes since Chloe had given the go-ahead for the recon to proceed, and already the guys were emerging from the elevator into Oliver's penthouse. Bart led the way, his words matching the confidence that could be seen in the way he swaggered into the room. Every operation gave him an adrenalin rush, and he always took particular pleasure in getting one over on Lex; every success helped to ease the memory of that time when a mission to a LuthorCorp facility had left him running for his life in a containment cell, a victim of a Luthor trap.

He threw himself into a chair, sliding down into it and stretching his legs out to their fullest extent.

"Lex's security was nowhere, Chloe, I mean like nowhere", he said. "The jerk is no match for the Impulse."

"Hey, what happened to 'the team', dude?" A.C. was unprepared to let the youngest member of the Justice League get too carried away with his success.

"Hey, if the mission is dolphin friendly I'll give you a call, big man. Otherwise leave the mission to the man with the speed, yeah?"

"What did you find?", asked Chloe, eager to stop the guys' banter degenerating into yet another argument.

"Only the entire contents of goldilocks' laptop", said Bart, drawing a computer memory stick from his jacket in triumph.

The sight of the device seemed to sober everyone up, as the excitement of the recon faded and the importance of the moment loomed large. Bart got up and handed it to Chloe, who without another word moved to a computer and started to download the data.

The men all gathered round Chloe as she set to work analysing the contents of Luthor's laptop. They all knew that it could take hours to sift through all the information, but none of them felt able to sit down and relax – to do so would have been somehow to disrespect their missing leader.

For ten minutes Chloe trawled through the contents of the laptop, breaking down Lex's security passwords to gain access to the files. The business files seemed never-ending, but Chloe's concentration never faltered – she knew that Oliver's life could depend on her picking up the slightest clue.

And then she found it.

A file entitled "Arrow" sat on the desktop, its normality belying the potential importance of its contents. She clicked to open it, to find that it contained one video file. Chloe hesitated a moment, realising that this could confirm all the nightmares of the previous twenty-four hours. She glanced over her shoulder at Clark, who gave a nod of reassurance. She then turned back to the screen, and clicked to play the video.

The reaction of Chloe and the guys to the images of Oliver's torture on the table could not have been more different to the reaction of Lex some hours before. No one spoke as the dreadful images played themselves out, and once the video ended the silence that engulfed the room was broken in their minds only by the echo of their friend's anguished cry of pain. Anger, helplessness, rage, fear – all these emotions and a dozen more swept over them. For Chloe it seemed for a moment as if her world had collapsed, and she sat dumbly, unable to move.

A hand gently but firmly squeezed her shoulder, a gesture of comfort and support.

"At least we know he's still alive", said Clark quietly.

"Oh man, I am going to kill him, I am going to kill that jerk!" Bart's anger finally burst from him, and he stormed away from the table. He moved to Oliver's punch bag which hung next to his weights, and started to pummel it furiously.

A.C. followed him and with difficulty took hold of the teenager's arms. Unprotected, his hands were already bloodstained, and as he turned to face the older man tears could be seen welling up in his eyes.

"We've gotta do something, man, we've gotta do something!", he cried.

"We will dude, we will", replied A.C. grimly, pulling the younger man to his chest to offer him comfort and support.

"Chloe, are you O.K?", asked Clark gently. "Do you want me or Victor to take over?"

"No, I'm fine. I can do this". Chloe knew that she had to press on to see what else the computer contained, however much what she had just seen had left her reeling. There was no turning back – she had to carry on, for Oliver's sake.

She clicked on the file to play the video a second time. Painful as it was, she tried to focus on the grainy images before her, searching for any clues as to Oliver's location. There was nothing – the camera didn't pan away from the table on which Oliver was restrained, and there were no pictures of those who had done this to him.

"A dead-end", said Victor solemnly.

Chloe renewed her search of the computer's files, desperately hoping that she would find something more to go on. She decided to look at Lex's diary, and immediately one entry almost leapt off the screen.

_Arrow Transaction_

_0100 HOURS _

Beneath this short entry Lex had typed an additional note:

_Security Priority Alpha_

_Merchandise Viewing at LexCorp facility Category A_

"What does it mean?", asked Victor.

"I'm not sure, but whatever it is, it's happening tonight", said Chloe.

"Arrow transaction – that has to be Ollie, right?", said A.C., joining the others with Bart at the computer.

"It's the only lead we've got", said Clark. "How many Category A facilities does Luthor have in the Metropolis area?"

"Three – I should know, I've seen the inside of every one of them." Bart seemed calmer now, his frustration evaporating with the emergence of this new lead.

"I guess this means we're flying solo tonight, guys", said Victor, looking at his team-mates.

The men did not reply, but they all knew the importance of what lay ahead. That evening they would each go on the most important stakeout of their lives, with nothing less than Oliver's life the prize.

Chloe stared at the screen, deep in thought. Whatever was happening at 0100 hours tonight must be connected to Oliver. At worst, they would find more information that would bring them closer to him. At best, they would find Oliver and free him. She felt relief that, after the horror of the video, there was some hope, some straw to cling to.

She just prayed Oliver could hold on.

* * *

Lex arrived at the LuthorCorp building some hours after the Justice League had completed their mission. The sun was already high in the sky and it promised to be a glorious day, but Luthor was more preoccupied with another potential source of pleasure.

He wanted to see if anyone had taken the bait.

Within minutes of his arrival he was logging into the additional security system that he had had installed in his office, complete with shielding devices to hide it from external surveillance. He was soon watching images of his room from the night before, taken by the hidden camera linked to the new system. He knew what he expected to find, and he was not disappointed.

A smile formed across his lips as he froze the tape to capture an image of Bart downloading data from his laptop. The Green Arrow's friends had behaved exactly as he had expected them to, and he felt a sense of quiet satisfaction that all was falling into place as he had planned. He wished he could see their faces as they played the video of their leader's torture, and he felt pleased that he had left just enough clues for them to feel clever as they believed they were getting one over on Lex Luthor.

Well this time it would be different.

Three locations planted, so they would be forced to split up if they wanted to find their precious Green Arrow. He did not want to take them all on, for fear that their combined strength would prove overwhelming for his men. But individually, that he could handle.

Lex sat in his chair and pressed the intercom.

"Mr Royle, tell the Heads of Security at all LexCorp facilities in Metropolis to prepare for Project Snare. They need to be operational tonight."

It was going to a very good day, thought Lex to himself. Not only was he going to finally triumph over the Green Arrow, but he was also going to capture another member of his terrorist gang.

The only question was – which one of the Green Arrow's protégés would it be?


	10. Chapter 10: Hope

Thanks to all those of you who continue to read and review - every bit of encouragement is really appreciated. Great to see Green Arrow back on Smallville in "Siren" - why can't we have a full series based on him and the Justice League? We can only hope, which leads me to the latest chapter...

Chapter Ten: Hope

As the sound of the lock being turned pierced the silence of the cell every muscle in Oliver's body tensed. The waves of exhaustion that had flooded over him since he had been left alone disappeared in an instant, and his senses became attuned to pick up even the slightest clue as to what was about to happen. He lay facing away from the door, so was unable to see who it was who entered the room and quietly closed the door behind them. For a moment there was no sound to disturb the stillness, save Oliver's laboured breath and the sound of his own heart pumping in his ears.

Who was it? Stadler, back to resume his torment of his captive? Weir, eager to take advantage of Oliver's helplessness to inflict yet another, more terrible, form of agony? The tension was unbearable, but for what seemed like an eternity the only sound continued to be the rhythm of his quickening heartbeat.

Suddenly Oliver heard the sound of a switch being flicked, and in an instant the room was flooded with light. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the new conditions, and then his heart missed a beat as he felt a hand touch the small of his back.

For a few seconds he was paralysed with fear and uncertainty as slowly the hand traced the line of his back upwards towards his neck. Soon it was joined by a second; the touch was gentle as the mystery visitor caressed the leather of Oliver's suit, feeling the taut muscles encased within it. Oliver felt physically sick as he realised that Stadler had not been joking about Weir, and he tried to prepare himself for the nightmare to come.

As the hand reached Oliver's neck the young man instinctively reacted, squirming to pull himself away from his unseen assailant. He shouted obscenities into his gag, the words muffled but the meaning clear. He would not give in without a fight.

"Shhhh, stop strugglin. I wanna help you."

Oliver's resistance was brought to an abrupt halt, not by a man's voice, but by a woman's. The voice was lowered so as not to be heard beyond the cell, and its tone was soft, but fearful.

It was Carly.

Oliver barely had time to recover from this unexpected development when he felt something cold and metallic against the flesh of his neck.

"Lie still. I'm gonna cut the rope around your neck."

Oliver did as he was told and within a minute the rope fell from his neck. He allowed his head to fall forward the floor, as at last his muscles gained some much needed relief from the stress position that Stadler had inflicted on him.

Within seconds he felt Carly's hands on his torso, as she carefully rolled him first onto his side, and then onto his back. He lay looking upwards into her eyes as she knelt beside him. He searched her face for some clue as to what was going on, what had brought on this sudden and unexpected act of kindness. The woman who had tormented him hours before seemed to have gone, and the face that looked down at him now seemed younger, more fearful, more innocent.

"I'm gonna take off the gag, but you must be quiet, you understand?" Again, she spoke in a hushed tone, and it became clear to Oliver that she was not here with Stadler's knowledge.

He nodded his assent, and slowly she peeled back the tape from his mouth, allowing him to breathe more easily.

There was a moment's pause, as each looked into the other's eyes.

It was Oliver who spoke first.

"Thanks." Oliver's voice was weak from his ordeal, but the simplicity of what was said could not mask the depth of meaning which lay behind it.

She did not reply, but stared at him with what seemed like sorrow in her eyes. She then reached across to her bag, and pulled from it a small plastic bottle of water.

"Here, drink", she said, holding the bottle to the man's lips. Oliver drained the contents greedily, appreciating the water at that moment more than he had ever appreciated the finest bottle of vintage champagne.

Replacing the bottle in her bag, she then pulled out some tissues. She set about gently but firmly removing the residue of the lip gloss that Stadler had smeared over Oliver's face and lips, restoring to the hero some degree of dignity.

"Why are you helping me?"

She did not reply.

"Please, tell me why you are doing this."

Carly paused in wiping the last remains of the gloss from one of Oliver's cheeks.

"This wasn't what I signed up for, OK? Brown never said nothing about working with sick psychos like Stadler."

"How did you get involved in this?"

"Brown promised good money. Said we'd get a reward from the cops for capturing you. But then the deal changed, and…well, it was too late, OK?"

Oliver's mind was working fast. Could it be that the famous Green Arrow luck hadn't deserted him after all? After hours of hopelessness, at last there was a glimmer of hope. He'd found the weak link in Brown's operation, the wannabe actress who'd got sucked into something she didn't fully understand and was now in way over her head. He would need to be careful, but if he played this right…..

But there was that voice, nagging away at the back of his mind. She was an actress – who was to say this was not yet another act? Was this the true Carly, or was it the woman who had taunted him hours before? Was this another of Stadler's games? He could not know for sure, but he knew he had to work on this woman – she was his only hope.

"You're some actress, you know that? There is a big career ahead of you."

The woman allowed herself a smile – the old Queen charm hadn't lost its impact.

"I could help you, you know. I've got contacts in the business."

"Sure you have. And you'd help me, right?"

He fixed her with a clear gaze.

"It's a better offer than you'll get from Brown. Do you really think he's going to split the reward with you? These guys mean business, Carly – you've seen that. You're in over your head, but its not too late - just help me."

"I can't. It's too late…I just can't." Her voice was anguished, but Oliver could tell she was wavering. Just a little more pressure…..

"You know I'm telling the truth, Carly. And even if Brown is on the level, do you really want to be an accomplice to murder?"

She looked at him sharply.

"What do you mean?"

"The guy Brown is selling me to – Lex Luthor. He will kill me if he has the chance – do you want that?"

There was a long pause, as Carly digested the meaning of Oliver's words. He then decided to press home his attack.

"You're not a killer, Carly. Help me now, before it's too late."

Suddenly the door opened and both Carly and Oliver turned to see Stadler framed in the archway. All three for a moment seemed rooted to the spot, each taking in the dramatic turn of events.

"What the hell are you doing untying him?" shouted Stadler, marching into the room. He grabbed Carly by the arm and pulled her up from her kneeling position next to Oliver.

The girl looked terrified. "I was just cleaning him up. Brown said he wanted him in good condition, so I thought..."

"No one is paying you to think", said Stadler, who then threw her against the wall of the cell. "I'm in charge now, not Brown, and I decide what happens to pretty boy, understand?"

Carly cowered against the wall, obviously terrified of Stadler. She nodded her agreement towards her boss.

"First tied up men, now women. You've got some idea of a fair fight, I'll give you that, Stadler" said Oliver, keen to attract the man's attention for fear that he would pursue his attack on Carly.

"Still the smart mouth, eh Queen? Maybe this will shut you up." And with that he kicked Oliver just below the ribs. He did not hold back, and Oliver curled up into a ball as he tried to absorb the crippling shock to his system. A second kick was aimed at his stomach, causing him to cry out in agony.

"Pick up that rope and tie him up like you found him, do you hear?"

Carly obeyed without speaking. She rolled Oliver onto his front, and began to retie him into the stress position. As Stadler knelt down to pick up the roll of duct tape, she moved her hand to Oliver's. He was aware that she was trying to pry open his fists; he silently cooperated, and felt the small knife that had been used to cut his bonds earlier being pressed into the palm of his right hand. He quickly closed his hand over the knife as Stadler turned and plastered a fresh strip of tape over his mouth.

Stadler stood and observed his captive once more prostrate before him.

"Sorry we disturbed your sleep, rich boy. Don't you get lonely now – we'll be back for some more fun later."

He nodded to Carly to leave the room. She glanced down one final time at Oliver, who looked back at her with a clear and powerful gaze.

And then they were gone, plunging the room once again into darkness.

It was as it was the first time that Oliver had been left in the room. Only this time there was a difference – this time he had something to cling to, a chance of escape.

He felt the knife in his hand, and carefully manoeuvred it so that it could make contact with the rope binding his wrists. It would take time, but Oliver didn't mind, as at last he had something he had not had since the start of his ordeal.

He had hope.


	11. Chapter 11: Despair

Here's the next installment - hope you like it. Continuing thanks to all who are reading and reviewing. The next few chapters are going to contain quite a bit of action and tension, plus a greater role for Chloe, which I know will please a lot of you.

Chapter Eleven: Despair

It took Oliver close to an hour to work through the thick rope that bound his wrists. Progress was frustratingly slow, but with his hands restrained Oliver found it difficult to exert the pressure and control necessary on the small knife to work at speed. His focus was absolute, and despite the still desperate nature of his position he felt almost elated. At last, after hours of despair, there was hope – he had an ally, and the means to escape. It was this sense of elation that helped him through the seemingly never-ending process of gently cutting away at the thick rope, a process which sometimes saw him cut himself as he tried to manoeuvre the knife more effectively.

At last he felt the rope loosening, and then finally his hands sprang apart as he used brute force to break the final strands that held him. He paused for a moment, letting the relief that he felt sweep over him. Quickly, however, his training kicked in, and as he untied the rope that bound his feet and neck he simultaneously started to tune into any sounds emanating from beyond his cell door.

His muscles ached as he slowly got to his feet, pulling the tape from his mouth as he did so. His time on the floor in the stress position meant that he found it difficult to stand, and he tried to restore some circulation to his abused body by doing some stretching exercises. He was weak, he knew that – in no fit state for a fight with Stadler and Weir. He also felt slightly light headed – the lack of food was taking its toll. But at least he was free, and master of his own destiny once more. Carly was out there, possibly prepared to offer him help – he _was _going to escape, he knew that for certain.

Silently he moved to the door of the cell. He stood motionless, straining to hear the slightest sound coming from the corridor beyond.

There was nothing.

His heart pounding in his chest, Oliver reached for the handle of the door, and gently turned it. He knew from the moment he put pressure on the handle that the door was not locked – Carly's work? Or Stadler getting careless? Whichever, Oliver slowly opened the door half an inch, and peered into the corridor beyond.

Nothing.

Slowly, silently, Oliver moved into the corridor. At the far end he could see the entrance to the warehouse area, a slight glow illuminating the crates that were stacked near the doorway. Again he halted, pressing his back close against the corridor wall so as to limit the amount of his body visible to anyone passing the opening in the warehouse.

Again, all seemed silent.

Oliver edged along the wall. The corridor itself was illuminated by a single light bulb, which cast a yellowy light on two doors set in the wall on the left hand side. Tentatively Oliver tried the handles of each of them, hoping to find an escape route. This time his luck was not in, as the locks held firm.

It soon became clear to Oliver that his only route of escape lay through the warehouse. He stopped once more, considering his options. Why was it so quiet? Maybe some of his captors had gone out. Someone must still be there, he reasoned – they wouldn't take the risk of leaving him entirely unguarded. But maybe he would only have to face one opponent – evened up the odds a bit in his favour. He tried to remember the layout of the warehouse. The door to the stairwell lay some way from the corridor, which would make an escape difficult. But the crates and machinery would provide cover, and the area where the television was – presumably where his jailers relaxed – was also some distance from the exit. And if he could make it to the table with his weapons, then there would be all to play for…..

His heart once again pumping so hard it reverberated inside his head, he edged towards the end of the corridor, and cautiously peered around the doorway to see inside the main part of the warehouse.

The light was dim, apart from the area around the television. There he could make out a figure slumped across the couch. It was a man's body, and Oliver could see a beer bottle lying clasped to his chest.

Weir. And he looked out cold for the duration.

Oliver looked around. There was no one else in the illuminated area, and elsewhere there was an eerie silence, large areas of the warehouse being plunged into darkness. He could see the table with his weapons still lying on it, a few feet from where he stood. And further away the exit, and freedom.

Oliver could hardly believe it. He was going to make it! Stadler was nowhere in sight, and Weir might not even wake up as he went for the door – if he did, his crossbow would soon settle him.

Oliver fixed his eyes on his weapon, sitting where Stadler had left it some hours before. Silently, he stepped out of the corridor.

"What took you so long, pretty boy?"

Oliver stopped dead in his tracks, his heart missing a beat. He felt the muzzle of a gun pressed against the side of his head.

"Hey Stadler, the guest of honour's here for his surprise party". The voice was Carly's. Not the Carly who had seemed so frightened in his cell, the Carly who offered hope of escape. No, this was the Carly who had sneered her contempt for Oliver when he had first arrived at the warehouse.

So now he knew who the real Carly was. Oliver's stomach turned as in an instant his hopes of freedom were ruined. Once again he had been tricked, but this was the cruellest trick of all – the trick that robbed him of hope.

Suddenly the warehouse was flooded with light. Stadler emerged from behind a stack of crates, grinning from ear to ear.

"Well, well, at last we can get this party started! We've been waiting for our star guest to turn up." Stadler's tone was triumphalist – he was determined to savour his latest success at Oliver's expense.

"What, no words from the smart mouth? No wisecrack from the hero?"

Oliver remained silent.

"Maybe he thought he was gonna be leaving us" said Carly, pressing the muzzle of the gun a little harder into Oliver's skull.

"No, leaving us? You mean the great Mr Queen, with his rich boy college education, fell for your act _again_? Now Oliver, you disappoint me – I'd expected better. You shouldn't have got his hopes up, Carly – now he's just gonna want to run home to mom and cry."

Carly smiled, enjoying Stadler's humiliation of the cornered hero. Oliver remained stony faced and silent.

"Still, we got some great party games lined up for you, pretty boy. Something _new – _I think you're gonna like it."

Stadler was by now standing by the table that had been the scene of his previous torture. Oliver felt physically sick - he could hardly bear to think of what new torments lay ahead.

"Move, leather boy." Carly pushed Oliver forward towards the table. He took a few steps, his mind racing as he tried to think of some means of escape. The knife! He still had the knife! It was small, but it might be enough….

Suddenly Oliver stumbled. Carly barely had time to react before he had reached into a pocket in his tunic and pulled out the knife. He slashed at her leg, causing her to cry out in agony and drop the gun.

Things moved quickly. Both Oliver and Stadler saw the gun fly from Carly's hand and fall to the floor about equal distance between them. Both made a lunge for the weapon…..

And it was Oliver who reached it first. Instantaneously he pointed it in Stadler's direction, causing the big man to stop dead in his tracks.

"Back off!" demanded Oliver, as he slowly got to his feet. Stadler, still smiling, complied, raising his hands in the air.

"Easy boy, easy", said Stadler.

"Get over there" ordered Oliver, gesturing to where Carly stood, her hand clasped to her leg. Slowly Stadler started to move.

He was in control! Oliver felt a surge of relief once more…but then a feeling of doubt. Something was wrong, something he'd forgotten….

Suddenly he felt something wrap itself around his neck. A rope! It tightened, choking Oliver and causing him to claw desperately at his neck. Weir! How could he have forgotten Weir! He tried to keep the gun trained on Stadler, but he could see his tormentor's smile widen as he gradually felt himself becoming light headed.

"I'd drop it if I were you, or else Weir there is gonna squeeze every last drop of air outta you."

Eventually Oliver had to admit defeat, and allowed the weapon to drop to the floor. Stadler calmly stepped forward and retrieved it, at which point Weir released the pressure on Oliver's throat. Gasping for breath, the young man fell to his knees.

"Now where were we? Oh yes, the party games", said Stadler. He nodded to Weir, who then proceeded to grab Oliver under each arm and drag him towards the table. For a moment Oliver was like a lifeless doll, but as his strength returned he started to struggle desperately against his captor. It was futile, and Stadler looked on in satisfaction as once again his victim was strapped down onto the table.

Carly walked over to where Oliver once again lay restrained. She moved up close to the captive so that her body touched his and Oliver could feel her breath on his face.

"You are so gonna regret cutting me, pretty boy", she whispered into his ear. Oliver instinctively tried to turn his head away, but the strap across his forehead prevented him from doing so. Carly ran her tongue up his neck and onto his face.

"You know what I taste? I taste fear", she said, her face little more than inch from Oliver's.

"Bitch", said Oliver, unable to restrain himself any longer.

She grabbed his hair, holding his head still. With her free hand she pressed a knife against the man's exposed throat.

"Watch your mouth, rich boy", she said, enjoying the power she had over the Oliver. "We wouldn't want to have to explain how the merchandise had a little accident with a knife to Mr Brown, now would we?"

She then released her grip, and removed the knife from his throat. For a moment she stared at the helpless man who lay before her, and then she turned and walked away.

Stadler replaced her, carrying a bucket of water.

"You ever heard of waterboarding, hero boy?", said Stadler as he placed the bucket down next to where Oliver lay. "They say it can break anyone – certainly spoilt little rich boys like you."

Oliver tried to hide his panic. Waterboarding was notorious – and he knew that he didn't have the strength to resist. He was finished – it was just a matter of time now.

"I don't think that we will be having time for that particular form of entertainment, Mr Stadler".

All eyes turned towards the door, where Brown stood, immaculately attired as ever.

Stadler stepped away from Oliver, clearly discomforted by the arrival of his boss.

"We've just been making our guest comfortable, Mr Brown – nothing more", he said defensively.

"And is that so, Mr Queen? Has Mr Stadler ensured you have had a comfortable stay with us whilst I have been away?" Brown walked across to where Oliver was restrained.

"What can I say? Five star treatment" said Oliver, rapidly regaining some composure now that Brown had arrived. He knew that the arrival of the boss meant an end to his torture – at least for the time being.

Brown smiled. "I'm so glad to hear that. Alas, all things must come to an end, and so it is for you Mr Queen. You see I've just been to see an old friend of yours, and he is keen to meet up – tonight."

Oliver eyed Brown defiantly, trying once again to mask his fear. So his greatest nightmare was about to become a reality – he was to be handed over, a prisoner, to Lex Luthor.


	12. Chapter 12: Looking for something green?

Lots of action and drama in the next few chapters. How bad can things get for Ollie and the gang? The answer is a LOT worse. Hope you enjoy - your reviews are as appreciated as ever.

Chapter Twelve: Looking for something green?

_0048 hours_

Chloe glanced once again at the clock display on her computer screen. The minutes seemed to be passing agonisingly slowly towards the 0100 time indicated for the mysterious Arrow transaction mentioned in Lex's files. Victor, A.C. and Bart had left for their stakeouts around midnight, each taking one of the Category A facilities in the Metropolis area. It was decided that Clark should stay with Chloe in Oliver's penthouse, ready to act as back-up should the need arise. Chloe was glad to have her friend there with her, offering her reassurance simply by the fact of his presence. Did he suspect how she truly felt about Oliver? She suspected he did, but knew better than to seek to discuss it – they both knew that they were there for each other whenever one felt the need to share their innermost feelings.

_0049 hours_

Chloe watched the computer display move one minute forward. As the appointed hour approached her anxiety was increasing, and she could feel the knot of fear beginning to form in her stomach. What lay ahead could lead to Oliver's freedom, or to a dead end, or to something worse, that she dared not contemplate. The waiting was becoming unbearable, but still there were no voices coming through on the communications system.

_0050 hours_

How much longer?

"Watchtower, I have activity at the Greenslade Facility." The sound of Victor's voice was so clear and so sudden that Chloe visibly started in her seat.

It had begun.

"We hear you loud and clear Cyborg. What do you see?" Chloe tried to remain calm and professional, but her heart was racing. Clark stood behind her chair, keenly following developments.

"One vehicle. Four males have just got out – two are carrying semi-automatic weapons. Two men are going to the trunk. They are opening it….pulling something heavy. Can't make out what it is….my view is obscured. No – I have a clear view. It is the Green Arrow. I repeat, I have a visual on the Green Arrow."

Chloe's heart missed a beat. He was alive! She turned to look at Clark, who responded with a broad smile.

"Cyborg, what is Arrow's status?" Again, Chloe's professional instincts kicked in. This wasn't over yet, not by a long shot – she needed to stay focused.

"Hands are tied behind his back, and he looks pretty beat up. But he is alive – I can confirm he is alive."

For a few moments there was silence, and then Victor's voice could be heard once more.

"They are taking him into the facility. I'm moving in to get a closer look."

Again, a period of silence.

Then shouts could be heard coming through the communication system. Chloe looked anxiously at Clark, and then attempted to make contact with Victor.

"Cyborg, what is your status?"

More shouting, and then the sound of gunfire.

"Cyborg, what is your status. Please respond." Chloe's voice was insistent as she sensed something was wrong.

"Watchtower, I've been made. Am taking fire from a number of different sources – taking evasive action."

The silence that followed was short, but agonising, as both Chloe and Clark strained to hear what was happening.

Then a voice.

"Watchtower, I've been hit. Request urgent back-up."

In an instant Clark was heading for the door. He turned back to Chloe, his face dark with concern.

"Call A.C. and Bart. Get them to meet me at the Greenslade facility."And with that he was gone.

An anxious Chloe turned back to the communications console.

"Calling Aquaman and Impulse. Do you read?"

"Loud and clear." Bart's voice responded.

"It's the Greenslade facility. But Cyborg is in trouble – Boy Scout says meet him there as soon as possible."

"I'm already on it, Watchtower."

"Aquaman, do you read me?"

There was no response from A.C.

"Aquaman, I repeat, this is a Code One. Do you read?"

Still nothing.

Chloe's brow furrowed. Where was A.C.? Presumably his communicator must have gone down – probably due to water damage. But he was needed – Victor was down, and although Bart had speed, he didn't have strength. Clark needed back-up, and he needed back-up urgently.

Chloe made a decision. A.C. was watching the Wroughton Lake facility, probably a fifteen minute drive from Oliver's apartment. She grabbed her car keys from the desk, and made for the door. She was going to find A.C. – if he wasn't needed then it didn't matter if he was late, but if things went wrong his arrival might make all the difference for Clark and guys.

* * *

Victor lay on the grass that bordered the Greenslade LexCorp facility. The bullet had penetrated his left leg, and the damage caused to his cybernetic systems, whilst not serious, was sufficient to render him dangerously weak. He could see three uniformed security guards advancing towards him, their guns trained on his head. _This is not good_, he thought to himself.

The guards advanced cautiously, but they were soon looming over him.

One touched his ear piece.

"Operations, target apprehended."

Glancing over their shoulder, Victor's face broke into a broad smile.

"You might want to change that message", he said, nodding to indicate activity behind his would-be captors.

Two of the men turned, only to be taken out by Clark's iron fists. The third whirled around, raising his gun in Clark's direction, only to have it knocked from his hand by Bart. For a moment the guard didn't seem to register what had happened, and then a flying kick to the head from the teenager sent him flying.

"What took you so long?", said Victor.

"How badly are you hurt?", asked Clark, kneeling at his side.

"It's nothing serious, but I'm not going to be much use on this operation."

"Oliver?"

"They took him in there." Victor gestured to a small door in side wall of the facility.

Clark ran over to the door. Laser vision helped him to penetrate the thick steel to see what lay beyond. It was a large space – a warehouse. Nothing seemed to be moving, and for a moment all he could make out were the shapes of boxes and crates. And then he saw it.

A figure.

It was undoubtedly human, despite the fact that it did not move. But what transfixed Clark in horror was the fact that the figure was hanging three feet above the floor, with what must have been a rope running from its neck to metal girder which ran across the length of the warehouse.

Clark grabbed at the door, and in an instant had ripped the reinforced steel structure from its hinges. He ran into the room, only to halt a few feet from the hanging figure.

The costume was unmistakable. It was the Green Arrow.

Clark rushed to take the weight of the man's legs, and used his laser vision to cut the cord from the girder above. Gently he laid the lifeless figure on the ground.

"No!"

Bart's anguished voice filled the warehouse. He stood in the doorway, supporting Victor. Clark looked across at the two young men, his face distraught. He knew as soon as he touched the body that they were too late. The Green Arrow was dead.

Bart and Victor joined Clark at the side of the body. Bart fell to his knees, tears welling up in his eyes.

"It can't end like this man! It can't!"

The teenager gently took hold of the Green Arrow's hood, and pulled it back. For a moment he stopped, confused by what he saw. Instead of Oliver's shock of blond hair, this man had straight brown hair.

"What the…"

Bart reached forward and removed the dark sunglasses. All three men stood, dumbfounded. The man who lay before them was not Oliver Queen.

"What does this mean? Where's Oliver?" asked Bart, looking up at the two older men.

Clark reached down and tore an envelope from the dead man's tunic. Inside was a letter.

The other two men looked at him expectantly.

"It's from Lex"

"What does it say?", asked Bart.

Clark read the short note out loud.

_Looking for something green? Sorry boys, but you shouldn't believe everything you read on a man's computer. Don't you know it's rude to read someone else's files?_

_Hope you enjoyed my little charade – got to admit I had you going, didn't I? I'm afraid you are going to have to settle for an imitation, but I'm after the genuine article. By the time you read this I'll have concluded a deal that will deliver your precious leader to me on a platter – and I'll have got myself a bonus in the process._

_Don't be too downhearted – I'm sure you have a great future as the new dynamic duo._

_Lex_

"A set-up." Bart's voice sounded empty.

"What does he mean – the new dynamic duo?", asked Victor.

He and Clark looked at each other, the same dreadful realisation dawning on each of them at the same time. Victor touched his earpiece.

"Aquaman, do you read me? Aquaman, do you read?"

Nothing.

Bart looked at his friends, still not realising that things had just got a whole lot worse.

"What's going on?"

"The whole thing wasn't just a set-up. This guy was a decoy. Lex has played us – that bonus he mentions? I'm guessing that's A.C."

"Watchtower, do you read me? Watchtower, come in please." Clark's voice betrayed his anxiety as he tried to raise Chloe.

Silence.

"Try her phone, man."

Clark pulled out his phone. Instantly he saw he had one message – it was from Chloe.

_Gone to find AC. See you soon._

"Oh God", whispered Clark.

All three men struggled to take in the rapid turn-around in their fortunes. Not only were they no closer to finding Oliver, but A.C. was missing, probably captured, and Chloe was heading right into the eye of the storm.

"What's the time?", asked Clark.

"0127", answered Victor.

"I'll see you there."

Victor nodded grimly his assent, as Clark sped from the warehouse and headed for Wroughton Lake.

But as he ran, he knew in his heart that he was already too late.


	13. Chapter 13: Confrontations

Chapter Thirteen: Confrontations

"Enjoy the ride, hero boy. Don't you worry now, I'll keep that cell of yours nice and cosy for when you get back."

Carly's lips curled into a smile as she looked down into the trunk of the car. Oliver's bruised and tortured body lay before her, his legs drawn up towards his chest so that he could be fitted into confined space. His hands were once again tied securely behind his back, and an additional rope stretched around his biceps and torso, binding his arms painfully to his sides. Rope had also been used to tie his feet together, and to complete the picture a strip of duct tape had been wrapped tightly around his head three or four times, leaving him tightly gagged.

Oliver stared defiantly upwards at his tormentor, although his glare of anger was hidden by the shades which had once again been placed over his eyes. His hood had also been pulled up over his head, transforming him into the Green Arrow who had battled Lex so many times before. Oliver couldn't quite work out why Brown insisted on the hood and shades, but suspected it had something to do with his love of theatre – what could be more dramatic than to unmask the Green Arrow before his greatest foe? Whatever the reason, it offered a glimmer of hope – combined with the gag, Oliver's identity was effectively hidden – for the time being at least.

Carly pushed the lid down on the trunk, plunging Oliver into darkness. He listened as car doors slammed shut and the engine started. Soon he was aware that the vehicle was moving, and he winced as his body was bumped against the side of the trunk as the car passed over a pothole.

How long had he got? He didn't know, but in the darkness he tried to loosen his bonds. He was disappointed, as the ropes showed no signs of giving. He was not surprised – professionals like Brown don't make careless mistakes. All he could do was wait – and hope for a miracle.

* * *

_0045_

_Wroughton Lake was still and silent as AC surfaced at its edge__, barely making a sound as his head sent ripples across the inky black waters. He took a few moments to take in his surroundings, allowing his eyes to just clear the level of the water but keeping the bulk of his body submerged to lessen the chances of detection. He could see the mounted security lights of the LexCorp facility in front of him, just over the brow of the bank which ran next to the lake. Elsewhere there was only darkness and silence, save for the occasional sound of a fish turning suddenly close to the surface of the water somewhere out in the middle of the large expanse of the lake._

_Satisfied that it was safe to proceed, AC drew himself out of the water, taking care to say low as he made his way up the bank so that he could gain a clearer view of the facility. His dark green leggings provided a perfect camouflage against the grass of the bank, and the flesh of his bare chest and back were smeared with dark body paint to complete the effect. There were times when AC wanted to be seen, but tonight was not one of them – his orange tunic had been left behind at Oliver's apartment. _

_AC took up a position near the top of the bank overlooking the entrance to the facility, which lay a few hundred yards away. The buildings were well lit, and he had a good view of the compound which lay beyond the security fence. _

_He glanced at his watch, and saw that it was ten to one. The knowledge that it was only ten minutes to the appointed time made his heart quicken, and he listened intently for any signs of movement to disturb the stillness. _

_He didn't have to wait long. After about five minutes he became aware of the sound of a car's engine in the far distance. As he listened it became louder and louder and louder, until eventually the glare of a vehicle's headlights appeared at the end of the access road to the facility. As AC watched the car pulled up at the gates to the facility, where it paused for a moment before the gates opened automatically. _

_AC watched intently as the car pulled up inside the compound. For a moment there was no movement, until eventually a door opened and a group of LexCorp security men walked out, armed with semi-automatic weapons. Following behind them was Lex Luthor._

_The appearance of Lex banished all doubt from his mind – he knew that he'd hit the jackpot. He touched his earpiece to transmit his discovery back to base._

"_Watchtower, do you read me? Come in Watchtower"_

_AC 's words were met with static._

"_Watchtower, do you read? I have activity at Wroughton Lake. Do you read me?"_

_Again, there came no reply save the sound of static. _

_AC cursed to himself. Why did equipment always fail when you needed it? Whatever the cause, he knew he was on his own, and that Oliver's life might depend on the decisions he made in the next five minutes._

* * *

Stadler brought the car to a halt on the gravel in front of the LexCorp facility. In his mirror he could see the high security gates closing, a view that left him feeling slightly uneasy. He knew he was about to become a very rich man, but he couldn't shake the fear that Lex might double-cross them. They were heavily outnumbered by Lex's security men, and there would be little they could do if Luthor decided simply to take Queen and not hand over the money. 

He glanced over at Brown, who sat calmly in the passenger seat. If he had doubts, he was not showing them.

"What now?", asked Stadler.

"We wait."

A door opened in the wall in front of them, and a group of heavily armed men emerged, fanning out across the compound. Finally Luthor himself appeared, taking up a position about ten yards in front of Brown's vehicle.

"I don't like this", said Stadler anxiously.

Brown remained serenely calm.

"Relax, Mr Stadler. You and Weir remain here until I signal you to bring out our friend." With that he got out of the car, slamming the door behind him before walking over to Lex.

"Good to see you again, Mr Luthor", said Brown, offering Lex his hand. "I'm glad you're taking no chances with security – very reassuring, given the value of the merchandise."

"I don't like leaving things to chance, Mr Brown. My security are here to deal with any and every eventuality." Lex smiled, and Brown reciprocated; both knew that Lex's words carried a multitude of meanings.

"I take it you would like to see the merchandise?"

"I believe that is the purpose of this meeting."

"I don't think you are going to be disappointed."

Brown turned and nodded to Stadler. He and Weir got out of the car and went around to the trunk.

As with his first encounter with Brown, Lex maintained an outward appearance of complete calm. But inside his heart was pounding as he watched the two men open the trunk and begin to manhandle something heavy from inside.

For a moment his view was obscured, but then from around the side of the car he saw a sight that confirmed all the hopes of the previous twenty-four hours.

The Green Arrow was being dragged forward between Brown's two men. The hero was tightly bound and gagged, and needed to be supported by his captors as his feet were also tied. The man was struggling slightly, but to no avail.

For a moment Lex betrayed his satisfaction by allowing a small smile to form on his lips. There was no doubt in his mind that Brown had delivered – this _was _the Green Arrow.

Weir and Stadler halted a few feet in front of their car and dropped their captive to the ground. Oliver fell forward and, unable to break his fall, hit the gravel face first. Stadler smiled before reaching forward to pull the stricken hero up, so that he was left to face his captors on his knees.

"As you can see, Mr Luthor, the merchandise is one hundred percent the genuine article", said Brown.

"It would certainly appear so, Mr Brown", said Luthor, not taking his eyes from the leather clad figure who knelt before him. He took two steps towards his foe, before Brown's voice brought him to momentary halt.

"Before you inspect the merchandise, can I just remind you of our deal? You can look, but you can't touch, not until I receive payment for my services."

Brown's intervention irritated Lex, but he tried not show it.

"I'm a man of my word, Mr Brown. You need have no concerns that I will go back on what I've agreed."

The two men eyed each other for a few seconds, each trying to search out the others true intentions. Eventually Brown spoke.

"Of course, Mr Luthor. But as one businessman to another, I'm sure that you will agree that it is best to be absolutely clear on the terms of any agreement."

Lex's head tilted slightly in agreement with Brown. He then turned his attention back towards his prize, and took the remaining steps necessary to allow him to stand over the captured hero.

Oliver's heart was pumping. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on the ground in front of him, determined to do all he could to hide his true identity for as long as possible. He had heard Brown's conversation with Lex, and now the purpose of the hood and glasses became clear. No money had yet been exchanged, and until it was Brown intended to keep the truth about the Green Arrow a secret. There was still hope, but Oliver knew that Brown was not fully in control here – it would only take one move by Lex and Oliver would be face to face with his would-be nemesis.

Lex stopped in front of Oliver's kneeling figure. Oliver could see little more than his well polished shoes, and tried to prepare himself mentally for whatever lay ahead.

For a moment Lex said nothing – he knew the value of silence in building up suspense, and he intended to relish every moment of his triumph over the man he hated. A sense of elation coursed through him – the months of humiliation and defeat made this victory all the more pleasurable.

"The invincible Green Arrow, kneeling before Lex Luthor. I don't think I could have scripted this any better if I'd employed all the scriptwriters in Hollywood, do you? Certainly a moment to savour, and so much better than our last meeting, don't you think?"

Oliver did not move. He knew that Lex was determined to enjoy his moment of triumph, and he did not want to provoke him any more than he had to.

"Do you remember that last meeting? When you and your gang of terrorists blew up one of my facilities? Maybe you don't, as you've blown up so many in the last few months. Your campaign has been an irritation, I give you that, but no more than an irritation. Like all terrorists, your campaign is a sign of your own weakness. But irritation or not, the time has come for your little game to come to an end – time for you and your friends to face some justice."

Lex slowly began to circle his victim – he was getting into his stride, and enjoying every moment.

"And what are you, when the toys are stripped away, and your freakish friends are no where to be seen? A man in a green leather suit who thinks he's some sort of latter day William Tell who can make a difference."

Lex bent down so that his mouth was just a few inches from Oliver's ear.

"Well you have made no difference to my 33.1 programme, my friend, no difference at all", he whispered. "So do you think it was worth it?"

Oliver remained motionless, sensing Lex's presence to his side.

Lex lifted himself upright, and completed his circuit of the captured hero.

"You know how much I've got to pay Mr Brown here for his services? Two million dollars. Two …million ….dollars. It seems like a lot of money to get rid of an irritant like you. Especially when I could simply kill you now and save myself the expense."

As Lex said these words he pulled a pistol from inside his suit and pointed it directly at Oliver's head, the gun barrel pressing against his right temple.

Stadler pulled a gun, but immediately found himself covered by four semi-automatic weapons wielded by Lex's security guards.

Oliver's heart pumped in his chest as for a second time in a matter of hours he felt the barrel of a gun pressed against his head. He felt the beads of sweat running down his face, neck and back, but he did not move. There was nothing he could do – this time there was no way out.

Brown attempted to intervene to save his investment. Trying to remain studiously calm, he tried to diffuse the situation.

"Lex, we had a deal. I …."

"Shut up!" Lex's command was uncharacteristically harsh, totally lacking in the control that he normally so studiously cultivated.

"Say your prayers, Green Arrow. It's time to die."

And with that Oliver heard Lex squeeze the trigger.

* * *

Sorry guys, but next week's update could be couple of days later than normal - I've got a lot on at the moment. Sorry to keep you hanging, but lots more drama to come - big Chloe chapters lie ahead.

Any feedback always gratefully received!


	14. Chapter 14: From Bad to Worse

Chapter Fourteen: From Bad to Worse

Sorry it's a bit later than usual, but here is this week's chapter. A bit of something for everyone - angst, action, Lex triumphant and some hints of Chollie! Thanks for reading - any feedback always appreciated.

"Say your prayers, Green Arrow. It's time to die."

Instinctively Oliver closed his eyes as he waited for what seemed the inevitable. Time seemed to stand still, and all was silent – it felt as if the whole world was holding its breath. He thought for a split second that this was the time when your entire life was meant to flash before your eyes, and felt strangely disappointed that it was not happening to him. Then he thought of Chloe – and again felt surprised that it was her image that flashed into his mind at that most critical of moments.

He heard Lex's finger pull the trigger, and braced himself.

Nothing.

The gun was empty.

Lex removed the gun barrel from Oliver's head and calmly replaced the weapon in his jacket pocket. As he did so he observed with satisfaction his captive's chest heaving up and down. Oliver was hyperventilating as his body involuntarily responded to his latest ordeal, and the duct tape wrapped around his mouth made it doubly difficult for him to regain some control over his breathing.

"You didn't really think it was going to be that easy, did you?" asked Lex, the cold self-discipline once again restored to his voice. "I've spent a long time planning your death, and I intend to enjoy every minute of it."

Lex looked out beyond the fence that surrounded the facility to the bank that bordered the nearby lake. A small amount of light from the compound illuminated the base of the bank, but beyond all was darkness.

"You know, this is the moment when all of your freak friends should ride in to save the day. Funny, but I'm not seeing any cavalry, are you Mr Brown?"

"No cavalry at all, Mr Luthor." Brown's calm demeanour had once again returned, although inwardly he was cursing himself for his loss of control a few minutes before. He hated appearing weak, and that was exactly how he had felt – it was an experience he did not care to repeat.

"And their absence is particularly perplexing, given that I know that at least one member of the Justice League has been watching us since this little reunion began."

Lex's words hit Oliver like a hammer. He turned his head towards his tormentor, but then stopped, torn between his natural urge to know more and his unwillingness to play Lex's perverse little game.

Lex saw Oliver's reaction, and decided to press home his advantage.

"Yes my friend, tonight you are bait in a little trap I've set for one of your gang. Just about now my men should be taking him into custody."

Panic seized Oliver. He looked from side to side, struggling against his bonds and hoping to send some sort of warning out into the darkness. His silent alarm was brought to an abrupt halt by Stadler, who grabbed him at the back of the neck and pushed the barrel of his gun against the rear of his skull.

A cell phone rang.

Lex smiled.

"And this should be my men now."

* * *

_A Few Minutes Earlier_

_AC watched from his position at the top of the bank as events unfolded across the grass in the illuminated compound before him. The appearance of Oliver had produced contradictory emotions within him – joy that his friend was alive, but also fear and anger at his current plight. He was torn as to what to do – his communicator stubbornly refused to work, and so he was faced with the dilemma of intervening with the odds heavily stacked against him or waiting to see how the situation developed. He opted for the latter, but felt impotent as he watched Lex circle his helpless team mate._

_His heart missed a beat as he saw Lex pull the gun from his jacket pocket and level it at Oliver's skull. In an instant he knew that the moment of decision had arrived, and he did not hesitate – even if it meant death, he had to make an attempt to save his stricken friend._

_He stood up from his hiding place, so that his strong frame was silhouetted against the moonlight. He made to move towards the fence, but was instantly brought to a halt by a voice from behind him._

"_Don't move!"_

_AC froze. He did not need to turn around to realise that he had been had – the only question was how many of Lex's men he would now have to do battle with before he could help Oliver._

"_Turn around. Real slow." The voice was authoritative, but nervous; probably a rookie, thought AC to himself, already calculating the opportunities for escape._

_Slowly the big man turned around to face his foe. He was met by four men in black security uniforms, each pointing a semi-automatic weapon at his head._

"_Now lay on the ground. Face down."_

_The command came from the man in the middle, whose face was etched with concentration. _

_AC held his arms out to his sides, opening his hands towards his assailants in a gesture of submission. A broad grin formed across his face._

"_Hey guys, relax. I know when I'm done, and you dudes have got me fair and square."_

"_Shut it! Get on the ground!"_

_The leader of the squad was clearly irritated by AC's studied air of calm, much to the hero's satisfaction. These guys were new to the job – this was going to be easy._

_Slowly AC got down on his knees, before lowering his body fully to the ground. He listened as the leader got on his radio._

"_Blue leader, this is Red One. Target apprehended in Sector Four, Over"_

_The reply was instantaneous._

"_Received Red One. Proceed with extreme caution."_

"_Hey, I like the codenames, dudes. You guys are real pros."_

_AC's intervention was calculated to provoke, and it had the desired effect._

"_I told you to shut up!"_

"_Hey, chill man! Just trying to make conversation."_

"_Tie him up."_

_Outwardly AC lay calmly as the men approached him, but inwardly his mind was racing. He knew that this was his chance to take the squad out, and within seconds he had formulated his plan. He knew that Lex would have given instructions to take him alive, and this meant that they were unlikely to fire – this gave him all the opportunity he needed._

_Two men were quickly standing over him._

"_You sure you wanna do this guys? Last chance."_

"_Get on with it!" The squad leader's voice betrayed his increasing anger._

_The two men bent down to begin binding AC. In a split second he flipped over, taking his captors by surprise. He instantly kicked upwards at the guards faces, putting the full force of his muscles into the attack. The men stood no chance, and were sent flying through the air._

_AC leapt to his feet as the third guard ran towards him. The man raised his gun, but before he could shout a warning AC turned 360 degrees and aimed a flying kick at his stomach. He too was sent flying, straight into the squad leader who was also advancing to join the struggle. The two fell in a sprawling mass to the ground, the men's guns being sent flying. _

_The squad leader pushed his unconscious colleague's body from on top of him, only to find a grinning AC towering over him._

"_Dude, I did warn you__." And with that a fist to the right side of the man's face sent him to join his three team mates._

"_Lex really does need to get better men", said AC, observing the four unconscious figures lying around him. _

_Suddenly a piercing high pitched sound flooded AC's head. Instinctively the young man clasped his hands to his ears, but nothing could prevent the electronic scream from penetrating every corner of his brain. His face convulsed in agony as the excruciating pain crippled him, forcing him to fall to his knees. He knew what was happening – he was falling victim to some sort of sonic weapon. But knowledge did not help – he was powerless to stop the all pervading torture._

_He sensed men around him. New men. He wanted to fight, to resist, but his instincts would not allow him to take his hands from his ears, despite the fact that they were making no difference. He squirmed blindly on the ground, shooting his legs out randomly in a vain attempt to land a blow on one of his attackers. _

_Then he felt it. The unmistakeable sensation of a needle piercing the skin of his neck._

_He felt the drug surging through his body, quickly sending him towards unconsciousness – and captivity._

_The last thing AC heard was a voice – the voice of Blue Leader._

"_Target neutralised, Mr Luthor. Am bringing him in now."_

* * *

"Excellent work. Secure our new guest and bring him to the compound."

As Lex snapped his cell shut Oliver's heart sank. The words confirmed his worst fears – one of the guys had been captured. Who was it? Bart? AC? Victor? Whoever it was, it didn't change the reality of the situation – the cards were all stacked in Lex's favour.

"As you may have heard, one of your freak friends wanted to crash our little party. He will be joining us – but perhaps not in the way he anticipated."

Lex smiled at his own humour as he looked down at the figure who knelt before him. The sense of power he was now enjoying was intoxicating, and was made all the more pleasurable by the fact that he had been waiting for the tables to turn like this for so many months.

Lex squatted down next to Oliver.

"You know, I just can't make up my mind about something. Do I make him watch me torture you, or would it be more fun to have you watch me torture him?" Lex's tone was almost playful. "It's a tough one – what do you think?"

Oliver stared down at the ground, motionless.

Lex got to his feet and walked over to Brown.

"This has been fun, Mr Brown. I hope that my little game earlier on didn't upset you, but the opportunity was too good to resist."

Brown smiled weakly.

"So, I'll organise to have the two million ready in twenty-four hours. We'll make the exchange at a different location – I'll let you know. Good doing business with you, Mr Brown."

Lex was brisk and businesslike, offering his hand out to Brown. The other man took it, and the two shook hands – the deal was done.

Brown nodded to Stadler, and both he and Weir proceeded to drag Oliver back to the trunk of the car. Lex watched contentedly, before turning back to Brown.

"I trust I can rely on you to keep my investment secure?"

"Of course, Mr Luthor. I haven't disappointed you yet, have I?"

With that Brown made for his vehicle. He wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible – Lex's antics had made him feel vulnerable, and he wanted to be clear of the compound, before Lex changed his mind about the deal.

In under a minute Lex was watching the car drive up the road away from the compound, its lights gradually fading into the night. He was soon joined by one of his security men.

"You fixed the transmitter to the car?", asked Lex.

"Yes sir."

"Good. A little insurance is always a good idea."

There was a disturbance at the far end of the compound, as a new group of security men entered through the gates. Lex smiled as he saw what two of them dragged between them – the unconscious form of a well built man.

The group eventually reached Lex, with the two men still holding the young man between them. Lex grabbed his blond hair and pulled his head upwards, so he could see clearly the face of his captive.

"Arthur Curry, aka Aquaman," he said with satisfaction. "Richards, take our fishy friend here to the Wallis Facility. I'll warn Dr Thomas of your arrival – he'll know exactly how to make this "dude" feel welcome."

Casually Lex allowed AC's head to fall, and the men began dragging him away to a nearby truck. Lex stood alone for a moment, reflecting on the night's events. A smile once again formed on his lips – it had been a good night, a very good night indeed. The signal disrupter had done its work, preventing Curry from calling for back up. He would soon be safely in Dr Thomas's "care", if "care" was the right word; Lex had little doubt that a few hours with the good doctor and Curry would be whimpering like a child and begging for mercy. And tomorrow he would have the Green Arrow – he would at last have his revenge for all the humiliations, all the hurt. The man would suffer before he died – Lex would see to that.

He looked at his watch.

It was twenty past one.

* * *

_Chloe peered intently forwards into the pitch black of the night. She did not want to turn on the lights of her car, for fear of alerting those in front that they were being tailed. So all that she had to guide her were the lights of the car she could not afford to lose – the car that held Oliver._

_She glanced at her watch – it was approaching half past one. The last twenty minutes had passed in a blur, but she knew that she could not afford to take time to pause. She reflected on what had happened – her arrival at the Wroughton Lake Facility, concealing her car, watching from her hiding place as Lex humiliated Oliver, the feelings of fear, pity and anger she felt as she watched the man she loved so powerless, so alone. She still felt the pain of what she had witnessed, but tried to stay positive. Lex had not got Oliver, and the Green Arrow's identity was still a secret. And she had found him! Surely now it would be alright, wouldn't it?_

_But where was AC? She hadn't seen him at Wroughton Lake. Had something happened to him? And why was her cell phone not working? She had tried to call Clark, but couldn't get a signal. What was going on?_

_Whatever the case, Oliver was there, in front of her, being taken who knows where. She had to stay focused, to maintain concentration, for his sake._

_But as she drove into the night she was acutely aware that now Oliver's life was in her hands – and her hands alone._


	15. Chapter 15: Into the Lion's Den

Here's the latest chapter - sorry it's a bit later than usual. You may think we're moving towards a climax, and we are - but there's a lot more to come yet before we get there. Thanks for reading, and a special thanks to those who take the time to review - it is a real encouragement to keep on writing!

Chapter Fifteen: Into the Lion's Den

Despair.

For the first time since his ordeal had begun Oliver felt utterly without hope. Once again he found himself in the trunk of Brown's car as it drove through the dark streets of Metropolis, his bound body aching and objecting to every knock it received as the vehicle made its way back to the warehouse. The surroundings were all too familiar, but Oliver's emotional state had changed. The encounter with Lex had taken its toll, somehow extinguishing the hope that had kept him going to this point.

He tried to rally himself, to tell himself that the game was not yet over. He was still alive, and miraculously his secret identity remained intact. How was that possible! Lex had been inches from him, a second from pulling back his hood, but somehow he had survived. Surely these facts alone should be enough to keep a flame of hope burning? But Oliver knew that it wasn't enough. It wasn't the threat to his life that had crushed his spirit – that he was prepared for, that he could handle. No, it was the news that Lex had captured one of his team mates which had ripped away his last shred of optimism. He'd often thought about what it would be like to be captured by Lex, how he would survive the taunts, the violence, the humiliation. But the thought of having to watch one of the guys suffer, powerless to come to his aid – that was unbearable, unendurable.

Who had fallen into Lex's trap? He feared it was Bart. The teenager was impetuous, foolhardy – it would be all too typical of him to embark on a rescue mission without adequate back up. And to watch him tortured by Lex's hired psychopaths would be impossible to bear. At least he would break quickly, offering some release from the hell of captivity that lay only a day off. AC and Victor would be tougher, but that would mean the pain would last for longer – and all the time Lex would be taunting him, demanding that he beg for their lives. This truly was a nightmare – and there seemed no way out.

Oliver was brought back to the reality of the present by the sound of the car slowing to a halt. The engine stopped, and he could hear the doors of the car opening. He tried to focus, dismissing the thoughts of the torments to come – he still had to survive whatever Brown and Stadler had in store.

The trunk opened and Oliver looked up to find the familiar faces of Weir and Stadler staring down at him. Each grabbed an arm and pulled him from the confined space, pulling him upright between them.

"Did hero boy enjoy the ride?" asked Stadler, a vicious grin distorting his features. The two men then dragged their captive towards the warehouse door, which already stood open where Brown had gone before.

They reached the top of the stairway down into the basement storage area. At the foot of the staircase the door was open, and light from the room beyond illuminated the otherwise darkened stairwell. Stadler halted for a moment, causing Oliver to glance leftwards at his captor. The grin on the man's face had widened, but the malice in the smile was there for all to see.

"You know Dom," said Stadler, looking past Oliver to Weir, "I'm feeling a bit tired after all that driving. How about allowing Mr Queen here to take the easy way to his suite?"

Stadler's sneering words confused Oliver for a moment, but then the look in his eyes led to a dreadful realisation. Oliver struggled, but the ropes around his torso and legs made escape impossible. His eyes widened as he looked down the flight of stairs.

"See you at the bottom, pretty boy." And with that Stadler and Weir pushed Oliver off the top step and down the stairwell. Oliver plunged downwards, his body turning time and again as he hit the stairs and the narrow side walls. With feet and hands bound he was totally unable to break his fall, but he did the best he could to protect his head by tucking it into his chest. Eventually he came to rest at the foot of the stairs, his torso twisted awkwardly as he lay against the half open door.

Oliver mentally checked himself over. His body was already heavily bruised, but he didn't think anything was broken. He could feel something warm running down the side of his face – blood from a knock to his head.

"Well now, has my sexy leather boy come back to see me? That was some entrance." Carly's unmistakable voice signalled her arrival, standing over Oliver.

She knelt down. "Ahh, did you miss me? Here now, let me see that cute blond head of yours." And with that she pulled back Oliver's hood and gently removed his shades.

"But you're bleeding! Here, let me kiss it better." Oliver tried to turn away as Carly took his head in her hands and kissed his forehead.

"Hey now Carly, don't you get too attached to Mr Queen now. He's not gonna be with us for too much longer."

Stadler and Weir had joined Carly at the foot of the stairs. All three looked down at the stricken hero, who tried to return their stares with as much defiance as he could muster.

"Stadler!" Brown's voice was angry. "Get Mr Queen to his cell, and stop playing your little games. I need you to come with me to make some final arrangements, so make our guest secure and meet me at the car."

Brown's words wiped the smile from Stadler's face. He nodded to Weir, and together they picked up Oliver and dragged him off to his cell. Once in the room they dumped Oliver unceremoniously to the ground.

Stadler knelt down so that he could talk to Oliver a few inches from his face as he lay on the cold cement floor.

"I'm going away for a bit, but don't you worry now. We've got twenty-four hours before we hand you over to Luthor, and Brown isn't gonna be here to protect you forever. So sleep tight, hero boy, but remember – I'm not finished with you yet."

With that he got up and walked from the room, leaving Oliver once again alone with his fears.

* * *

Chloe edged tentatively along the side of the wall, alert to the slightest sound to disturb the stillness of the night. The road that stretched out before her was featureless, save for the abandoned warehouses that stood to either side of it. And the car. The car she had tracked here from Wroughton Lake, the car that had contained Oliver.

The vehicle was empty now. Chloe guessed that Oliver's captors had taken him inside one of the warehouses, which must be acting as their hideout. She couldn't be sure which; when the car had turned slowly into this side road, clearly reaching the end of its journey, she had continued on a little way down the main road before drawing her car to a halt. Avoiding detection was paramount, but it now left her feeling helpless once more – where had they taken him?

The night air was still – exactly the sort of night that Chloe normally loved. But now it seemed a curse, as every step she took down the road seemed to sound a warning of her arrival. Her breathing was quick and shallow, and her heart seemed to be pumping as never before. She felt fear, certainly, but also excitement and exhilaration at the thought that she might be able to bring Oliver's ordeal to an end.

A loud metallic squeaking sound shattered the silence. Chloe froze, trying to identify the source of the noise. Almost instantaneously she saw a door in the side of one of the warehouses up ahead swing open. She looked around desperately for cover, and dived into a recess in a nearby wall just as the sound of voices could be heard coming from the opening door.

"You'll get your chance to work over our green friend, Mr Stadler, but first things first. We need to make the final arrangements for the exchange and our departure from Metropolis."

The voice was unmistakeably English, and classy too, thought Chloe to herself. The reference to Oliver made her feel angry – these thugs were not going to harm him any more, not if she could help it. She tried to catch some more of their conversation, but instead heard two car doors slam shut and an engine start. Realising that the car was about to drive right past her hiding place, she turned to face the wall so that the darkness of her clothes provided some camouflage against the darkness of the brick work.

Relief surged through her as the car was driven past her without stopping. As soon as the sound of the engine was no more than a barely audible hum in the distance, she stepped from the recess and looked up the road to where the men had emerged from. The warehouse was unremarkable, with nothing to differentiate it from any other building in the area. The door from which the men had emerged was now shut, and silence once again claimed the night.

Chloe tried to take stock and review her options. Oliver was inside, that much was clear. But how many were left guarding him? More than she could handle, she was sure of that. Should she go and get help? One part of her said that this was the sensible thing to do, but it would take time, and something was telling her that she didn't have much time. No, she would have to do something now, but what? A frontal assault on the door was probably not a good move. What would Ollie do? Look for a side entrance, of course – outflank your opponent, take him by surprise.

As lightly as she could, Chloe started to jog around the warehouse, trying to find some alternative way in. At first her search appeared as if it would be fruitless, as all she came across was featureless wall after featureless wall. And then she saw it – a small window at ground level, just large enough for a person to fit through.

Chloe ran over to it. She rubbed away a thick layer of dirt and dust to see what she could make out inside. It was difficult to see anything more than the dull outline of shapes, but it seemed clear that this was some sort of skylight, and that the floor of the room was some way below ground level.

She gave the window a tug, but it refused to move. She tried again, and this time felt a slight movement. Further tugs revealed an area of weakness in the frame. Nervously she fumbled in her pocket for the small penknife she had earlier taken from her car. She had picked it up as the closest thing to a weapon she could lay her hands on, but now it would serve another purpose. She placed it at the weak point in the window frame, and started to gouge and scrape away at the wood. The blade was pitifully small for the job it was now called on to perform, but Chloe persevered – however long it took she would get in to this warehouse.

* * *

It took her about thirty minutes to work through the frame to the point where it was loose enough for her to work it free. As the window swung open Chloe paused for a moment, looking forward into the darkness of the room that now lay before her. Her hands felt raw, but the adrenalin that was pumping through her body forced all sensation of pain from her mind. With the thought that she was now only perhaps a minute away from finding Oliver, she clambered through the opening into the warehouse. 

Once inside her eyes quickly adjusted to the conditions. She found herself perched on top of some large crates, stacked haphazardly against the wall. With great care she started to descend into the darkness, acutely conscious that one wrong footfall could send her crashing to the ground and alert Oliver's kidnappers.

Finally she found herself at floor level. The light from the small window above her made little difference at this level, but eventually she made out a thin sliver of light some way to her right. Realising it was light from beyond a door, she moved towards it.

Once at the doorway she listened. All seemed silent, save for her heart still pumping away in her head. She knew there was no alternative to opening this door, whatever lay behind it. For all she knew she might be about to walk straight into the criminals' lair, but she had to do it. Sweat dripping from her temples, she gently, slowly, turned the handle of the door.

It moved.

Silently she opened the door the smallest of distances. Still there was no sound. She looked through the crack she had created, to find what seemed like a corridor lying beyond. Feeling more confident, she opened the door a little wider, to find her initial impressions confirmed. A dimly lit corridor stretched to her left and right. To her right she could see that the corridor eventually opened out into a larger space, where there seemed to be more light. To her left the corridor led to a dead end, save for a couple of doors further down on the same side as her own.

Chloe silently stepped into the corridor, closing the door behind her. She turned left, deciding to check out the doors at the far end before braving whatever lay in the open area at the other end of the corridor.

The first door was locked. She moved on to the second, and found that the handle turned. Slowly she opened it, allowing the corridor light to flood the darkness beyond. For a moment she saw nothing, but then she looked at the floor.

Oliver!

Chloe's heart missed a beat, and for a moment she stood rooted to the spot. After so much searching, so much fear and anxiety, to finally find Oliver left her stunned.

He lay before her on the hard cement floor, his back to her. His hood was pulled back, and his blond hair caught the light cast by the open door. Ropes cruelly bound his body hand and foot, and Chloe could see the silver of the duct tape which was wrapped around his head. He seemed so helpless, so vulnerable - it seemed obscene. For Chloe Oliver was invincible, supremely confident – for him to be brought to this made her heart overflow with emotions she had never before experienced.

But there was no time. She may have found Oliver, but they were not free yet – she had to stay focused. After casting a glance down the corridor to check that she had not been seen, she slipped into the room and closed the door behind her. For a moment all was darkness, until her hand felt the light switch on the wall.

She knelt down next to the leather clad figure, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Oliver immediately tensed, like a child wincing when a wound is cleaned with antiseptic.

"Hey, it's me, Chloe," she whispered.

Oliver's head turned. His eyes widened as he saw who returned his gaze – Chloe smiled, as if to say, "it's going to be OK." She placed a finger to her lips to indicate the need for silence, and then held up the knife. Oliver nodded to show that he understood, and then Chloe gently cut away at the duct tape just in front of his right ear.

At last it came free, and Oliver took a gulp of clean air.

"What took you so long?"

Oliver's first words brought joy to the young woman. The voice was weaker than normal, certainly, but whatever he'd been through over the last few days, the old Oliver – self-confident, assured, always looking for the one-liner – the old Oliver Queen was still here, alive and well.

"I leave you alone for one minute, and look what happens," said Chloe, determined to match Oliver line for line. She moved the knife towards his back, and started to work on the rope that bound his hands.

Oliver's face darkened.

"The others – are they OK? Lex said he'd captured one of the guys – who was it? Where are they?"

Chloe concentrated on Oliver's bonds, reluctant to tell him that she actually knew very little, and that they were still in great danger.

"I don't know. This is a solo operation."

"You're here alone? This is one hell of a time to make a pitch for full membership of the Justice League, you know that?"

"Hey, who was it whose solo mission got us into this in the first place?"

Chloe looked at Oliver, to be met by a broad smile.

"The dynamic reporter turned superhero. Here's one guy who's glad you've made the switch to the big league."

Chloe grinned, but then the couple froze.

There was a sound, a very recognisable sound.

It was the sound of footsteps coming down the corridor.


	16. Chapter 16: Escape?

Chapter Sixteen: Escape?

The footsteps were getting closer.

Oliver and Chloe looked at each other, and without exchanging a word immediately sprang into action. Oliver lay on his side, once more facing away from the door. He placed his hands behind his back as if they were still tied, grabbing the cut rope to add to the impression that he was still a captive. Chloe moved to the side of the door, the small knife clasped in her hand. She knew what she had to do – she had seen it done countless times in the movies and on TV – but the idea of jumping an unknown man or woman now seemed a far more scary prospect than it had ever done in any piece of Hollywood fiction.

Chloe tried to control her breathing as she watched the handle turn and the door swing open. She braced herself for what was to come.

In a second her target was revealed. She found herself looking at the back of woman, not dissimilar in height and build to herself. Chloe offered up a silent "thank you" that she was not going to have to tackle a six foot monster.

"Hey there leather boy, time we had some more fun," sneered the woman as she dug the heel of one of her shoes into Oliver's side.

Chloe struck. She grabbed the woman from behind, placing her left hand firmly over her mouth and jabbing the small knife against the side of her neck so that it almost drew blood. 

"Fun's over. One sound and this knife is going to cut you open, understand?" 

Chloe almost surprised herself at the strength of her words. The adrenalin was pumping, and she felt swept along by the moment.

"Understand?"

The woman slowly nodded her head.

Oliver got to his feet and turned to look at Chloe and his former tormentor. Chloe's brow was creased with concentration as she held the knife against Carly's neck. For a moment he simply stood and watched, forcing Chloe to take her eyes from her captive.

"Well don't just stand there. You're supposed to be the hero – help me."

Oliver smiled.

"Hey, you don't need me. Look's like you've got everything covered."

Chloe glared at the young man with a combination of exasperation and delight. She'd missed the banter, and whatever the situation, Oliver could always be relied upon to come up with the right one-liner. 

"Look, a girl can go off a hero, you know."

Oliver smiled broadly, and picked up the rope from the floor. He looked at Carly, whose initial fear had now turned to a silent rage which burned in her eyes as she returned his gaze.

"Sorry Carly, look's like I won't be introducing you to all my contacts after all."

And with that they started to tie the girl up, as Oliver had been tied before her. It took barely a minute, and then the two of them stood back to observe their handiwork. Carly lay on the floor, her hands and feet bound and a strip of duct tape slapped across her mouth. Oliver squatted next to her, the famous Queen smile meeting the fury of the young woman's glare.

"Perhaps it's for the best that you don't meet my contacts in Hollywood. Those performances you gave? Strictly B movie stuff. Take my advice - stick to the streets. It's where your "talents" belong."

Oliver gently patted Carly on the back, as the young woman squirmed defiantly at his touch.

"Can we go now? I mean, I don't want to break up whatever you've got going on here, but.."

Oliver stood and turned towards Chloe. His face was now serious.

"Let's go."

The two slipped silently into the corridor, gently closing the door behind them. For a moment they stood motionless, listening for any sign of movement from the main part of the warehouse. Satisfied that Carly's failure to reappear had not aroused any suspicions, they edged along the wall until they reached the door that Chloe had used a few minutes before, and which now represented a very real escape route. 

Chloe led the way into the room. Again the pair took care to close the door silently behind them, and it took their eyes a few moments to adjust to the darkness. The light from the small window illuminated the stack of crates that previously Chloe had negotiated to gain access to the warehouse; seen from below, the task of scaling this obstacle to gain their freedom seemed a very real challenge.

"Hope you're ready for a climb," whispered Chloe, staring ahead at what at lay before them. When she received no answer she turned, to find Oliver leaning against the wall. He didn't look good.

The young man was breathing heavily, and was rubbing his left knee as if to ease some pain. The abuse and torture of the last two days had clearly taken its toll, and after the initial excitement of gaining his freedom Oliver was beginning to feel the effects of his ordeal. He felt light headed due to lack of food, and a stabbing pain shot through his knee every time he took a step; he'd not escaped entirely unscathed from his fall down the stairs after all.

"Are you OK?, asked Chloe, placing a hand on Oliver's shoulder.

Oliver smiled, but with less conviction than before.

"I'll be fine."

"Do you think you can make it?"

Oliver looked at the crates stacked high before him.

"If it means checking out of this place, I can make it."

The two of them stepped forward and began to climb. Chloe led the way, trying to remember the route she had taken previously, the route which had proved safe and silent. Almost with every step she glanced back at Oliver, who gave her a reassuring nod or smile. She could sense that he was in trouble, and her level of anxiety began to grow after the euphoria of having found him. 

For Oliver every step of the climb confirmed his weakness. His body ached from his ordeal, and the pain in his knee seemed to get worse as he ascended the crates. Sweat poured from his body, and he struggled to stay focused and his brain began to swim due to his prolonged lack of sustenance. He tried to maintain a brave face for Chloe, but he knew he was in trouble – he needed to get away from there fast.

At last they were at the window, and the two crawled through the space to be met by the cold silence of the night. Oliver slumped against the side of the wall and again clasped his knee. The young man's chest was heaving, and in the moonlight Chloe could see his face glistening with sweat. 

She squatted next to him, her face etched with concern.

"Can you go on?"

"Just give me a minute – I'll be fine."

Chloe looked around anxiously. All seemed silent, but she knew they were not out of danger – they had to get to the car, which was parked some distance away on the main road.

Oliver struggled to his feet. He swayed slightly, putting a hand against the wall to steady himself. Chloe reached around his back to offer additional support.

Oliver smiled weakly. 

"You know I'm not sure I'm comfortable with this whole role-reversal thing. Shouldn't I be rescuing you?"

Chloe did not reply, but instead looked around as if searching for something. She quickly found what she was looking for – a door in the warehouse opposite. With Oliver leaning on her for support, the two made their way across the rough ground to the small entrance. Chloe tried the handle, and to her relief the door swung open.

Inside they found a vast hanger like space. The warehouse had clearly once been some sort of distribution centre, but now there was nothing to fill the cavernous void. Chloe guided Oliver over to a small office a few yards from the entrance, the door to which had long since disappeared. She led him inside, and gently eased him to the floor.

"You stay here. I'm going to get the car."

"I don't think there's much chance of me going walkabout," replied Oliver.

She paused for a moment, looking down at him. He returned her gaze, and for an instant their eyes met. She wanted to say it then, to tell him how she felt, but something held her back, kept the words inside.

"Are you OK?", asked Oliver.

Chloe smiled. "I won't be long."

Chloe retraced her steps back to the waste ground which separated Oliver's new hiding place from his former prison. To her left was the way back to the side road where she had first come across Oliver's kidnappers, but instead of returning that way she turned right. If her sense of direction was right she figured she could make it back to the main road and her car by another route, and if there was a chance of avoiding the front of the warehouse where the gang had made their base she was going to take it.

Her powers of navigation did not fail her, and after a couple of minutes jogging she found herself back on the main road. Her car was where she had left it, some way down from where she had emerged from the side of a building. All she would have to do was turn it around and drive it back along the route she had just taken, which was more than wide enough to take her car.

After pausing a moment to check all was still, Chloe ran lightly along the road towards her car. Just feet from the vehicle and she pulled the electronic key from her pocket and pointed it, receiving the reassuring flash of light and sound which signalled all was well, and that she was near to safety.

"Are you lost? Perhaps I can be of some assistance."

The voice stopped Chloe dead in her tracks. The accent was clear and the tone was calm and reassuring. But this English voice summoned a knot of fear to the young woman's stomach.

She turned, knowing that she was about to come face to face with the man she had heard leaving the warehouse earlier.

The smiling face of Mr Brown looked back at her.

* * *

Sorry, but I'm addicted to cliffhangers! Thanks to all of you for reading. Please post a review - your feedback is a massive encouragement.


	17. Chapter 17: A Hunted Hero

Chapter Seventeen: A Hunted Hero

"Are you lost? Perhaps I can be of some assistance?"

As Chloe turned to face Brown her mind was racing, desperately trying to think of stratagems that would allow her to escape from the unwelcome stranger. She found herself confronting a middle aged man, immaculately attired in a dark designer suit. He smiled as he took a couple of steps towards her, so that he stood next to the door to her car.

"This is a dangerous neighbourhood – no place for a pretty young lady like you at this hour of the night." The voice was smooth and polished, but there was something about the way he said "pretty young lady" that made Chloe's flesh crawl. She felt she was in the presence of a snake, waiting for its moment to strike, and she knew all too well that she was as vulnerable as any prey that might be found in the wild.

"No, no, I'm fine thanks." Chloe cursed herself as she realised the lightness of her tone seemed all too forced. "I took a wrong turn a few miles back, but I know where I am now."

As calmly as she could, Chloe stepped to her car and pulled on the handle to the driver's door. She opened it a few inches, only for Brown to grab hold of the top firmly, preventing any further movement.

"It's Chloe Sullivan, isn't it?"

Chloe's heart missed a beat. How did he know her name? She turned to look at Brown, a nervous smile dancing across her lips.

"How do you know that?"

"When an unknown vehicle is parked up in this area I make it my business to have the plates checked out. Just for security, you understand – but I have some valuable goods in these warehouses and I wouldn't want to lose them."

Chloe looked at Brown, whose humourless smile was as fixed as ever. The double meaning of his words had not escaped her, and she knew that he was playing with her. To what end? Whatever the man's motivation, she had to play along with the charade, in the hope that something would turn up to help her evade Brown's clutches.

"Well, as you can see I'm no criminal mastermind, so if you don't mind I'll be on my way. Thanks for your concern, but I'll be fine now."

She tried to push the door open further, but Brown's grip was strong and the door would not move.

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to leave just yet, Miss Sullivan."

At that moment Chloe's cell rang. It sat on the passenger seat where she had discarded it after her attempt to call Clark at Wroughton Lake. Clutching at the potential lifeline, Chloe pushed open the door and made a grab for the handset. She reached it, only for her to feel the press of something small and metallic against her back. She knew immediately the charade was over – Brown had pulled a gun.

"I'll take that if I may, Miss Sullivan."

Chloe slowly withdrew from the car, all the time mindful of the weapon held against her body. She held the handset out to her side, only for Brown to reach and take it from behind. In an instant the ringtone fell silent as Brown cancelled the incoming call.

"A missed call – how unfortunate."

Brown took a couple of steps back, allowing Chloe to turn and face her assailant. Keeping the gun on her, Brown started to inspect the cell.

"Now let's see what you've been up to tonight, shall we?"

"Hey, you've got no right to go through my phone." Chloe knew as she objected that her complaint would make no difference – Brown was determined to find out as much as he could about her recent contacts.

"Well, well, it seems that you've been quite shy in the last few hours – no calls made at all. Do you think that was wise, Miss Sullivan? Getting lost and not calling for help – seems very foolish to me."

Chloe said nothing, but simply kept her eyes on the gun that continued to be pointed in her direction.

Brown continued to go through the information stored on the cell.

"You seem to have a lot of contacts stored on this phone. Hardly surprising I suppose, given your budding career in journalism."

Chloe winced inwardly. Brown seemed to know all about her – whoever had fed him the information was extremely well informed.

Brown's smile broadened.

"Well here's a name I recognise! A friend we have in common, Miss Sullivan – Oliver Queen."

Chloe was silent.

"Tell me, Miss Sullivan, How do you know Metropolis's most eligible billionaire?"

"I did a piece on him for the Planet a few months back." Chloe knew as she spoke that Brown would not believe her lie, but the desperate need to protect Oliver overrode all other considerations.

"Oh, come, come, don't be shy, Miss Sullivan – I think you are on more intimate terms than that with our handsome friend. I wonder - are you a girlfriend? A sidekick? Or perhaps both?"

Chloe did not have an opportunity to reply as footsteps could be heard coming down the road from the direction of the kidnapper's base. She turned to see three figures jogging towards them – two men and a woman. The latter she instantly recognised as the girl she and Oliver had left tied up in the cell half an hour or so earlier.

"He's gone. He and a girl jumped Carly and got out through one of the side rooms," said Stadler, looking at Chloe as he did so. "Look's like your hunch about the car was right."

Carly fixed her eyes on Chloe. She walked straight up to her and grabbed her by the hair, twisting her and slamming her face down on to the bonnet of her car.

"And this is the bitch who did it!" she spat, holding Chloe firmly against the cold metal of the car.

Brown nodded at Stadler, who pushed Carly aside. Chloe's head was spinning from Carly's attack, but she was aware of a man's hands running across her body, checking for weapons. She squirmed at his touch, but he had her pinioned against the side of the car; she felt powerless as his large hands passed over her body, seeming to dwell at her most intimate areas.

"You won't be needing this," he said, pulling the small knife from the pocket of her jeans and tossing it away.

He then pulled Chloe upright, causing her head to spin after the blow she had received seconds before. As she struggled to reorientate herself she felt her arms being pulled behind her, and handcuffs being applied to her wrists.

"Well, Miss Sullivan, this is all very tiresome, isn't it? Tell me where Queen is and we can all get in from the cold, now there's a good girl."

Stadler wheeled a now bound Chloe around so that she was face to face with Brown.

"I'm telling you nothing!" she said firmly, trying to mask the fear in her voice.

Stadler grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, so that his mouth was just inches from her left ear.

"Tell us where pretty boy is, you bitch!" he hissed.

"He's gone – gone to where you'll never find him."

Brown chuckled.

"Ah, Miss Sullivan, do you really expect me to believe that? Our leather clad friend is hardly likely to have run off and left you all alone, now is he?"

Brown took a couple of steps forward so that he stood almost toe to toe with Chloe, still firmly in Stadler's grasp. He looked her in the eye as he issued his instructions.

"Mr Stadler, you and Weir start to check the warehouses next to our location – he can't have got far. Carly and I will wait with Miss Sullivan here."

Stadler pushed Chloe away. She stumbled, before regaining her footing. The thought crossed her mind to make a run for it, but it was hopeless – Carly was soon at her side, covering her with a pistol.

As Chloe watched Weir and Stadler prepared themselves for their search. To her horror she saw that Stadler had armed himself with one of Oliver's crossbows, which he seemed to be preparing in an expert fashion.

"Let's hunt hero!" he said with a chilling laugh, brandishing the weapon in the air.

"Remember, we need him alive," ordered Brown as the two men set off into the night.

"You'll never find him," said Chloe defiantly.

Brown turned and looked at her, an expression of mild amusement on his face.

"Oh Miss Sullivan, you and I both know that I will. Particularly as I have something that he values."

Chloe looked back at him, unable to mask the fear in her eyes.

"I think the mighty Green Arrow will do anything to save the intrepid reporter, don't you?"

* * *

Oliver sat slumped against the wall of the office. The light was poor, but large windows high in the main warehouse were enough to allow some moonlight to illuminate his surroundings. The room had been stripped bare, save for an old desk pushed up against the far wall and a couple of filing cabinets, their draws pulled open. In one corner Oliver could make out a couple of old blankets and some discarded cans; as with every disused building, the homeless had not taken long to colonise the place and take advantage of the shelter it had to offer.

The pain in his knee had eased considerably since Chloe had left him some minutes before. Sitting still had also given his body some time to recover, and he no longer felt quite so light headed as he had done during the escape. He had started to stretch the muscles in his arms and legs, testing for any signs of injury and attempting to restore some strength and flexibility.

Oliver thought about the events of the last two days. It had been one of the greatest tests he had ever faced, but it gave him strength to realise that he had come through it. Ever since he had first put on the leathers that transformed him into the Green Arrow he had hidden a secret doubt, a fear that if captured he would break. Well his resilience had been tested, and he had passed – he knew that this experience would leave him stronger for the future, more confident in his ability to take on Lex.

Lex. The thought of the encounter with his enemy sent a chill down his spine. And what about the guys? Chloe had said nothing about the team – who had Lex captured? The fears he had turned over and over in his mind whilst lying in the cell returned briefly, only to be dismissed; now he was free, he was in control, and he would rescue his friend now as he had rescued each of them in the past.

And Chloe would help him. Oliver smiled as he thought of how the young woman had handled herself during the escape. There was a toughness to Chloe, an independence of spirit, that meant she could be relied upon, whatever the situation. He'd missed her whilst he'd been away, perhaps more than he liked to admit to himself. He'd missed the laughter, the sparring with someone who could match him line for line. He'd missed her loyalty, the way in which she would do anything for those she cared about. And he'd missed her tenderness, the way she'd look at him when she thought he wasn't looking. Was that look the look of a friend, or something more? And how did he feel about her? He'd always thought of her as a friend, but now, now he wasn't sure.

A sound.

Oliver instantly tensed, straining to hear what was happening, and where the sound emanated from. As he listened he could hear the hinges of an unoiled door swinging open, some way away across the expanse of the empty warehouse. Chloe? But why would she use a different entrance? No, this wasn't Chloe, this was something else. A down and out, come to take advantage of the shelter on offer? Maybe, but Oliver knew the far more likely explanation – his escape had been discovered, and Brown and his gang of thugs were now hunting him down.

Oliver looked around for a possible weapon to defend himself. Adrenalin surged through his body and his heart rate quickened, forcing all feelings of tiredness from his mind. He could hear footsteps now, moving closer to his location and echoing in the vast space of the warehouse. His thoughts turned to Chloe – was she OK? He prayed that she was, and that she would not now return and fall into the hands of the hunter who was getting ever closer.

Still his eyes searched for something, anything, he could use as a weapon. Some electrical flex lay beneath the table opposite, and he grabbed for it before withdrawing back to his hiding place. He forced his back hard against the wall, trying to remain motionless so as to avoid detection. The footsteps were getting ever closer, and Oliver realised that his hiding place had now become a trap – an obvious place for a fugitive to hide, and with no obvious escape route.

The footsteps stopped immediately outside the entrance to the office. For a moment there was no sound, as Oliver's would-be captor paused, listening for any sign of life. Oliver sat motionless, barely daring to even breathe.

The silence seemed like an eternity.

And then he was there, standing over him, gun thrust out at arms length and ready to fire. It was a textbook security entrance, exactly as Oliver was expecting, but there was nothing he could do. In a split second the man had identified his prey, and Oliver found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

It was Weir.

"Don't move!" he ordered, not taking his eyes from Oliver.

He reached for an earpiece, gently tapping it so that he could communicate his discovery to Brown and the others.

"I've got him – he's in the Donovan Warehouse…………..yeah, don't worry, he's not going anywhere."

He tapped the earpiece again, ending the transmission.

"I don't suppose you were calling the cops, were you?" asked Oliver.

Weir smiled.

"You don't ever stop, do you Queen? But you will, cos when Stadler gets hold of you you're gonna regret you'd ever been born."

"I think I'll pass" said Oliver, simultaneously grabbing a handful of dirt from the office floor and throwing it in Weir's face. Instinctively the man closed his eyes as the dust hit his face, giving Oliver the chance he needed. He sprang from the floor and threw himself at his attacker, knocking the gun from his hand. Together the two men fell to the ground, Weir cursing as he tried to regain control. Oliver knew he had very little time, and rapidly wrapped the flex around the big man's neck. Realising what was happening, Weir tried to claw it away, but it was too late, and Oliver tightened the cord around the man's throat.

For what seemed like minutes Oliver held the cord tight, until eventually Weir's body stopped thrashing around and fell limp beneath him. Satisfied the man was dead, Oliver rolled off him and lay on the floor, panting with exhaustion as he stared up to the ceiling. One of the gang was down, but he knew that this was only a temporary respite – Brown and the others were coming, and he didn't have much time. He pulled himself up, and quickly found the gun that now lay near the doorway.

He checked the magazine. The gun was fully loaded.

That evens up the odds a little, he thought to himself. Next time he'd be ready for Brown and Stadler.

* * *

"I've got him – he's in the Donovan Warehouse"

Weir's voice sounded in Brown's earpiece.

"Well done, Mr Weir. I trust you can keep him company until we arrive?"

"Yeah, don't worry, he's not going anywhere."

Brown smiled with satisfaction as he turned to look at his female captive. Chloe returned his gaze, a mix of concern and curiosity showing across her face. She was sitting in Brown's car just outside the kidnapper's base, the door open and her feet sticking out into the road. Carly leant against the frame of the car, keeping the gun trained firmly in Chloe's direction.

"It seems we are to have a reunion, Miss Sullivan. My associate Mr Weir has found our missing friend."

Chloe's stomach turned. For the last half hour she had clung to the hope that somehow Oliver would manage to escape, but now that hope had vanished. They'd got him, and who knows what they would do to him now.

"Shall we go to see him? I'm sure he'll be keen to see his favourite little reporter."

Carly grabbed Chloe and pulled her to her feet. She pushed the young woman in front of her and jammed the gun in the small of her back.

"Move it bitch," she hissed, propelling Chloe forward so that she stumbled before finding her feet.

The three moved off in the direction of the warehouse where she had left Oliver. As they made their way to the front entrance Chloe's sense of panic began to build. No one knew where they were, or the trouble they were in. Worse, she realised all too clearly that she could now be used as leverage against Oliver, a new weapon for these animals to use to torment him.

Brown pushed open the door to the warehouse, which let out a loud screech as the hinges moved unwillingly. The three stepped inside, Chloe trying to brace herself for whatever might come next.

The warehouse was dark, save for the moonlight which streamed in from the windows high above. All seemed silent, causing Brown to come to an abrupt halt a few feet into the building.

"Weir, where are you?" he shouted, peering into the gloom.

There was no answer.

Sensing something was wrong, Brown tensed.

"Weir!" he shouted again, this time more insistently.

"I'm afraid Mr Weir won't be joining us."

The voice was calm, assured, and unmistakeable. Chloe's heart leapt – it was Oliver!

Brown swung round in the direction of the sound, only to find himself grabbed from behind. In an instant Oliver's arm had wrapped itself around Brown's chest, pulling him off balance. With his free hand Oliver pressed a gun against the Englishman's head.

"Surprised to see me?" asked Oliver, his heart pumping. "Now tell your little tramp there to drop her gun, and maybe I won't put a bullet through your skull."

Brown said nothing. Carly looked in confusion at the two men, uncertain what to do.

Oliver pressed the barrel of the gun harder against Brown's head.

"Tell her – now!"

"You wouldn't – you haven't got the guts." Brown's words sounded confident, but Oliver could hear the tremble in his voice.

"Try me!" Oliver whispered, little more than inch from Brown's ear.

Brown paused for a moment, and then nodded to Carly. The girl at first did not move, unwilling to surrender the initiative.

"Do as he says – drop your gun."

Reluctantly Carly threw the gun to the ground.

"Now untie her," commanded Oliver.

Carly did as she was told, and in seconds Chloe felt her hands free.

"Chloe, pick up the gun."

Chloe did as she was told, and quickly had it pointed in Carly's direction.

"I thought you were in trouble there for a moment," she said, not taking her eyes from her former captor as she spoke for the first time to Oliver.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," he replied, smiling across at her.

"Now my English friend, you and I are going to escort my friend Chloe to her car, and together we're going to pay a little visit to the cops, understand?"

"And expose your secret identity? Really Mr Queen, I don't think so."

Oliver knew that Brown had a point – now that he was free, what was he going to do with his former captors? Whatever the case, that was a problem for the future – Stadler was still out there, and the priority was to get Chloe to safety.

"Then perhaps I'll just have to kill you like I killed your friend Weir back there."

Oliver noted with satisfaction that with these words Brown's infuriating half smile fell from his lips. At last he had the upper hand.

"Move!"

Oliver pushed Brown forward. Together he and Chloe kept their prisoners in front of them as they stepped out of the warehouse and into the cold night air.

Oliver checked out the road. All seemed still – perhaps they would be lucky, and get away without running into Stadler.

"Left!" he ordered, and the group began to make its way down towards the main road and Chloe's car.

A few yards from the junction, and Chloe started to relax. She glanced at the man beside her. He looked great in the suit - so strong, so in control. This was the Green Arrow she knew, the Green Arrow who had excited her from the very first moment they had met.

Suddenly a strange sound, like something was slicing through the still night air…..

Then a shout of pain – from where? To Chloe's horror, it came from Oliver. An arrow had hit him from behind, cutting deep into his left shoulder. His face contorted in pain, and he clutched at the source of his agony. Brown and Carly turned, and needed no encouragement to take advantage of the sudden turn of events. Brown pounced on Oliver, pushing him to the ground and causing another cry of anguish to come from the wounded man. Chloe stood frozen to the spot for a moment, overwhelmed by how quickly things were happening. She turned her gun towards Brown and Oliver, but could find no clear target. Out of the corner of her eye she detected movement, but was too late to dodge Carly's fist as it landed squarely on her jaw. She fell to the ground, unconscious.

Brown and Oliver lay on the hard surface of the road, each desperate to gain the upper hand. The pain in Oliver's shoulder seared through his body, but he knew that he had to find the gun, whatever the cost. He spotted it to his left, and lunged for it – only for Brown to beat him to it.

Brown nimbly leapt to his feat, towering over the leather clad figure who now lay helpless before him. He looked up, to see Stadler running down the road towards them, brandishing the crossbow.

He levelled the gun at Oliver, who stared up at his captor.

"Nice try, Mr Queen," said Brown breathlessly. "But you know what? You lose."

* * *

Hope you liked that chapter - I enjoyed writing it. A thousand thanks for reading, and a special thanks to those who are taking the time to review. Please keep giving me feedback - it really does encourage me to keep the story going!


	18. Chapter 18: A Broken Arrow

**_OK, here's the next installment. A warning before you read - this is the most brutal chapter of the story, and if you don't like Ollie bashing don't read on._**

**_(I've replaced an earlier version of this chapter - thanks to Ace of Black Hearts for pointing out I mixed up Brown with Stadler)_**

**Chapter Eighteen: Broken Arrow**

Oliver lay on his side on the ground, the weight of his upper body supported by the elbow of his one good arm. The piercing pain in his left shoulder seemed to be worse now that the initial shock of being hit had passed; sweat poured from him, and he could feel tears of agony forming in his eyes. He glanced across at Chloe, who lay motionless a few feet away. Was she OK? There had been no gun shot, so Oliver hoped that she was just unconscious. He saw Carly covering her unmoving form with a gun, and this seemed to confirm that at least the worst had not happened – they were both still alive.

He looked up at Brown, who stood over him. The irritating half smile had returned, and the only sign that the Englishman's composure had slipped were some beads of perspiration that dampened the greying hairs on the sides of his head. Oliver attempted to match the coolness of his captor by returning his stare, but both men knew that such gestures were of little value – Brown was firmly in control, and now he had two captives instead of one.

Stadler appeared next to Brown, holding the crossbow aloft like a triumphant hunter. A twisted smile contorted his features, and inwardly Oliver's stomach turned at the thought of Chloe in the hands of such a psychotic thug. He didn't know what lay ahead, but whatever it was, he guessed it was going to be far worse than anything he had endured during his ordeal so far.

"An excellent shot, Mr Stadler. One to rival the skills of our friend here."

"Where's Weir?"

"I'm afraid we won't be having the services of Mr Weir for the remainder of this operation – Mr Queen has seen to that."

Stadler's face darkened as he took in the meaning of Brown's words. He took a step towards Oliver before kicking him hard in the gut, causing the young man to convulse in agony. As Oliver struggled to catch his breath he was aware of Stadler putting the crossbow down on the ground next to him. He felt the big man's hands grab him by the shoulders and flip him over on to his stomach, before his hands were once more forced to the small of his back and tightly bound together.

"You're going to pay for what you did to Weir, you piece of shit!" hissed Stadler, pulling Oliver's head from the ground by his hair.

Stadler then grabbed the remains of the arrow which had embedded itself in Oliver's shoulder. Still holding Oliver by the hair, he used his free hand to twist the arrow in the wound, causing the young man to cry out in pain.

"That's it, pretty boy, you cry out all you want, but it's not gonna stop me making you wish you'd never been born."

Stadler then pulled the arrow from Oliver's shoulder, simultaneously slamming Oliver's head into the ground. Oliver lay still for a moment, save for his chest attempting to force air into his lungs. Stadler got to his feet, brushing the dirt from his jeans before reaching to pick up the crossbow.

"You'll have time enough to punish Mr Queen, my friend. But now I'd like you to escort our two guests back to their accommodation. I'll be with you just as soon as I've contacted Luthor – the arrival of Miss Sullivan here might mean we have to move forward our plans."

With that Brown moved off back up the road towards his car. Stadler again kicked Oliver, and demanded that he get to his feet. Oliver slowly obeyed, swaying as he stood upright as his body objected to this latest round of punishment. He looked across at Chloe, his face etched with concern as she still lay unmoving on the ground.

"Don't worry, Queen, your bitch isn't going to miss out on all the fun," sneered Stadler. He then gestured to Carly to keep Oliver covered as he went over and lifted Chloe's lifeless form over his shoulder. She seemed so small and fragile, Oliver felt physically sick to see her thrown around like a doll by Stadler. He had had nightmares about how he would handle the torture of other members of his team, but to think of what now might be about to happen to Chloe – that was unbearable. At that moment Oliver knew that whatever happened, whatever price he would have to pay, he was going to do all he could to protect the woman who had risked all to save him.

* * *

Cold.

Chloe was suddenly aware that she freezing. And wet – yes, she could feel water running down her face. What was happening? Her brain struggled to come to terms with the sudden assault on her senses. Instinctively she moved to wipe the water from her face, only to find that she couldn't. In a split second she realised why – her hands were bound behind her back. And she was sitting on a chair – where? What was happening?

And then it all flooded back to her. Finding Oliver, the escape, her encounter with Brown, Oliver's rescue, the arrow in Oliver's shoulder….Oliver! Was he alive? The ropes around her wrists told her what she did not want to know – that she had been captured. And so the chances were that Oliver had been captured too – or something worse. Chloe kept her eyes firmly shut as she tried to come to terms with what had happened, and her current plight.

"Come along there, little lady, don't you go pretending to be asleep. I know you're awake now, and your boyfriend wants you to join the party."

Chloe recognised the voice – it was one of the men working with Brown, the man who had searched her earlier that evening. The water now made sense – it had been thrown over her to bring her round.

Chloe kept her eyes firmly closed as her mind tried to work out what to do for the best.

"Open your eyes, bitch!"

This second voice was female, the woman who Chloe had overpowered in the cell. Chloe barely had time to register this information before her head was whipped to the side by a stinging slap to the face.

There was no alternative – she would have to open her eyes.

Slowly Chloe allowed her eyelids to part. The first person she saw was Carly, who stood before her only a foot or so from where she sat, tied to the chair. The woman grinned as Chloe's eyes opened, clearly enjoying her new found power over the young reporter who had previously got the better of her.

"Welcome back, Miss hot-shot journalist. Lover boy's been missing you."

Carly then stepped to one side, allowing Chloe a clearer view of her surroundings. She was in a warehouse, clearly the one being used by Brown and his gang as their base. The light was poor, and the crates stacked all around cast long shadows. Not that Chloe really took much of this in, as she was transfixed by what she saw a few feet directly in front of her.

Oliver knelt on the hard concrete floor. He had been stripped of his leather tunic and t shirt, so that his bare torso stood glistening with perspiration and blood under the harsh light cast by the electric bulbs. His arms stretched vertically above him, where his hands were shackled with heavy metal chains and fixed to a hook which hung down from the ceiling. His head lolled forward on to his chest, so that his shock of blond hair masked his facial features.

Chloe gasped in horror at what she saw. Oliver had obviously been beaten mercilessly – the cuts to his chest and arms and the trails of blood which ran down his torso stood as testimony to the ordeal that he had been subjected to. A larger quantity of blood ran down the left side of his body, evidence that the earlier arrow wound continued to take its toll on the stricken hero.

"Well now, Miss Chloe Sullivan, what do you make of your mighty Green Arrow now?"

Stadler's voice finally shook Chloe from her state of shock. She looked to the right of Oliver to where his torturer stood, a piece of broken and blood-stained wood in his hand.

"What? Nothing to say? And you being a hot-shot reporter and all? This is the scoop of a lifetime – the unmasking of the famous Green Arrow! I'm thinking Pulitzer – what do you think, Carly?"

Carly smirked. Chloe's stomach turned, but she tried to stay focused – she wasn't going to give this psycho the satisfaction of rising to his bait.

"How about an interview? Would you like that?" Stadler's voice was slightly higher than normal, betraying the sense of excitement he felt at having Oliver so totally at his mercy. He grabbed the young man's head by the hair and pulled it upright, causing Chloe once again to gasp in shock. Oliver's face was bruised and cut, and his right eye had started to close as a result of a particularly severe blow.

As Chloe watched she could see Oliver trying to focus. In a moment her eyes met his – and for a second it was as if they were the only two people in the world. Her heart felt as if it would burst – she wanted to run over to him, to tend to him, to hug him close, to tell him that she loved him. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, but she was determined not to break – for his sake. Was that a slight nod of the head? A signal to her? A sign of recognition? She felt a surge of emotion such as she had never experienced, and desperately struggled to maintain her outward composure.

Stadler held Oliver's hair like an executioner holding aloft the head of one of his victims.

"He don't look so pretty now, I give you that. But with you in the room it wouldn't be right for him to look sweeter than you, now would it?"

"You bastard," whispered Chloe.

"Now it's time for you to give Miss Sullivan her exclusive, pretty boy. Go on, just like we rehearsed it."

Oliver said nothing, but simply looked at the floor.

"Say it!"

Oliver twisted his head so that he looked Stadler right in the eye.

"Go to hell!" he whispered, his voice cracked and dry after his ordeal.

"Wrong answer, boy!" Stadler then punched Oliver in the face, causing blood to spurt from his nostrils.

"Now you do as you are told or Carly there is going to hurt that bitch of yours."

Oliver looked at Stadler, a mixture of defiance and submission in his eyes.

"OK, I'll do it," he said quietly.

"OK what?" demanded Stadler.

"OK, Mr Stadler Sir."

Oliver's final submission brought a huge, ugly grin to Stadler's face. He had finally brought the young man to his breaking point, and to humiliate him in front of a woman he obviously cared about made the victory even more sweet.

A cell phone rang. Stadler fumbled in his jacket pocket, before pulling out the handset. He put the cell to his ear, and for a moment all was calm as Stadler listened to the voice at the other end of the line.

Eventually he snapped the phone shut, a slight frown on his face.

"Well, pretty boy, looks like you won't be giving that exclusive to Miss Sullivan after all. Brown's on his way back, and we haven't finished your punishment yet."

Chloe's heart froze as she watched Stadler take a few steps over to a large wire that hung from the ceiling. He reached up to a red button located in a box on the wire, pressing it firmly. Instantly the sound of an engine could be heard, and to Chloe's horror she realised that the device that Stadler had started was connected to the chains that held Oliver. As she watched the young man was slowly hoisted into the air, until he hung, suspended, a foot off the ground. Oliver's face contorted in pain as his body left the floor and his weight was transferred to his arms, and he swung helplessly in the air for a few moments.

Carly walked over to where Oliver was hanging. She looked up at the helpless young man for a moment, smiling as she looked at his stretched and exposed muscles. She ran her hand up his leg and across his ass, taking her time to linger and enjoy his discomfort as she caressed the smooth leather of his pants.

"So what do you see in him, reporter girl?", she said, looking across at Chloe. "Is it the muscles, or maybe all this tight leather? Or are you just after his money?"

Chloe glared back at her.

"Get your filthy hands off him, you bitch!"

Carly smirked as her hand moved round to the triangular strip of leather that acted as a codpiece on Oliver's costume.

"And how are you in bed, hero boy?" she leered, looking up at Oliver. "Too bad I'm never gonna find out."

"In your dreams," said Oliver, his eyes shining with defiance.

At that moment Stadler reappeared, holding in his right hand a long metallic rod connected to a thick wire which ran off into the half light of the outer areas of the warehouse. Chloe's eyes widened as she realised what new torture Stadler had in mind – electrocution.

"Hey Carly, why don't you cool off our friend here", he said, nodding towards a bucket of water which stood nearby. Carly grinned, before picking up the pale and throwing it across Oliver's exposed head and chest.

The shock of the water against his skin brought the young hero back to reality, and he quickly recognised the new danger he faced.

"Please, you don't have to do this….You've had your fun, can't you just leave him?" pleaded Chloe, knowing as she said them that her words would have little effect on the couple.

"Sorry, little lady, but I'm not finished with hot-shot Mr Queen here," said Stadler. He then turned to Oliver, looking up at the defenceless man who hung helplessly above him. "Now you're gonna scream, Mr mighty Green Arrow, scream like the spoilt little rich boy you really are."

He then thrust the electric prod into Oliver's stomach. Sparks flew as the charge hit the water on Oliver's body, and the young man twisted in agony. He tried vainly to escape the searing pain, but Stadler was unrelenting, pressing the device ever more firmly against Oliver's writhing frame.

"Please stop, you're killing him!" begged Chloe, tears running down her cheeks.

"Scream, rich boy!" demanded Stadler.

Eventually Oliver could stand it no longer, and a piercing, wrenching cry rang out, filling the space of the warehouse. To Chloe it was one of the most terrible cries she had ever heard, and she sobbed out loud as at last Stadler removed the stick from Oliver's battered body. The young man's head fell forward on to his chest, and after the struggles of the last minute he now hung lifeless from his shackles.

Stadler threw the electric prod to the floor, his eyes sparkling with an almost insane triumph.

"What do you think of your hero now, reporter?" he demanded breathlessly.

"Stadler!"

Brown's voice filled the warehouse, commanding everyone's attention.

"I told you to keep Mr Queen in one piece" he said, striding purposefully towards where Oliver was hanging. "Luthor isn't going to pay up for damaged goods, I thought I'd made that clear?"

He stood in front of Oliver's body, observing with obvious distaste the excesses of his hired deputy. Stadler said nothing as Brown reached up and lifted Oliver's chin from his chest. He looked closely at the young man for a moment, searching for any signs of life. Eventually he let the head drop, whirling round to face Stadler with an expression of absolute fury on his face.

"You ape, Stadler! Queen was worth two million alive, but what do you think we'll get for a corpse!"

Chloe froze at Brown's words, her heart missing a beat.

"What do you mean?" asked Stadler, dumbly.

"He's dead, Stadler, that's what I mean! Queen is dead!"

* * *

Sorry, but you know my weakness for cliffhangers - couldn't resist! Is Ollie dead? - you'll have to wait for next week's chapter, I'm afraid. Again, a million thanks to those who take the time to review - it is great to get your feedback, and it has shaped the direction in which the story has gone. Please keep reviewing - you make it all worthwhile!


	19. Chapter 19: Goodbyes

**Chapter Nineteen: Goodbyes**

"Queen is dead!"

Brown's words were like a hammer blow to Chloe's gut. Her head swirled as she tried to take in the enormity of what she had just heard, and for a moment it was as if she had lost consciousness as the warehouse seemed to spin in front of her eyes. It couldn't be true – it just couldn't. She would not allow it to be true. This was not how it was meant to be – this was not how it was meant to end. Not like this – not here. He was indestructible, the man who had effortlessly eluded countless criminals since donning the costume all those months ago. He had done so much good, and had so much more to do – for it to end now, in this sordid hole at the hands of these animals – surely it was not possible?

Her head began to clear, and again Chloe could see Oliver hanging lifelessly in front of her. She was aware of shouting, of Brown and Stadler having some sort of argument, but she did not register the words. All she could do – all she had the energy to do – was to stare at the body of the man she loved. Silent tears flowed down her cheeks as she looked at his beaten and bloodied torso, suspended obscenely from those chains like a carcass of meat in a butcher's. He didn't deserve to die like this – not a man like Ollie, not a man with such a beautiful spirit. She should have said something, done more to save him. Perhaps if she'd begged more, then maybe…. But now he was gone, and she would never have the opportunity to tell him how she really felt, how she loved him more deeply, more powerfully, than she had ever loved anyone in her life.

"I'm afraid, Miss Sullivan, that we no longer have any use for you."

The mention of her name brought Chloe back to reality. Suddenly she was aware of Brown standing next to her, and she turned her head to look at him. Her eyes took in the gun in his hand, but her mind was still too numb from shock to fully comprehend was about to happen.

Brown looked across at Oliver.

"For what it's worth, Miss Sullivan, I liked your boyfriend there. He had courage, a quality I rarely see in my line of business. I can only apologise that it has ended like this – it was never my intention. But ended it has, and I really can't afford any loose ends – I'm sure you understand."

Chloe watched dumbly as Brown lifted the gun and pointed it at her head. So this was it – death. She felt strangely disassociated from what she faced, like a member of the audience at a play or a movie. She did not struggle, or cry out, but simply looked from the barrel of the gun up and into the eyes of the man who was about to kill her.

"Pull that trigger and I swear I'll kill you, you son-of-a-bitch."

The voice was cracked and weak, but nonetheless unmistakeable – Oliver!

Everyone in the warehouse turned to look to where the young man still hung above the ground. At first sight he appeared as lifeless as before, but one glance at his head told a different story. His face, now lifted from his chest, looked across to where Brown stood, pointing the gun at Chloe. His eyes flashed with defiance, commanding the room despite his captive and battered state.

Chloe's eyes once again filled with tears – but this time with relief. It was as if the last couple of minutes had been some sort of unreal nightmare, from which she had now awoken. He was still alive! A huge smile formed across her lips, as her shoulders shrugged with the release of tension. The Green Arrow really was indestructible, and maybe – just maybe – they'd get out of this in one piece after all.

Brown strode over to where Oliver hung.

"Well, well Mr Queen – a performance worthy of Lazarus himself, if I may say so. I really did believe that you'd left us there for a moment."

"Yeah, well, don't ever go taking a job in any ER – you may be a first class bounty hunter, but your skills of diagnosis suck."

"I must apologise for the excesses of Mr Stadler - he unfortunately has a tendency to get carried away", continued Brown, his eyes surveying Oliver's battered frame. "I'm a businessman, Mr Queen, just like yourself, and I take a pride in ensuring that I deliver my merchandise in pristine condition."

"Don't worry about it, Brown," replied Oliver, glancing over to where Stadler now stood, a mixture of anger and relief on his face. "A few love taps from laughing boy over there I can handle – it's his way of saying he loves me."

Brown chuckled at Oliver's words.

"Ah, Mr Queen, Mr Queen, how I'm going to miss our little sessions of banter," he replied, looking up at the captured man's face. "It really has been enormous fun crossing swords with you – a first class opponent, if I may say so."

"Remind me to put it on my resume."

"Unfortunately all good things must come to an end, however. The arrival of Miss Sullivan has meant that your good friend Lex and I have decided to bring forward our little exchange, and now that you are back in the land of the living, well, everything can move forward as we have agreed."

Oliver did not reply, taking in the full import of Brown's words. Brown smiled, realising what Oliver was thinking.

"Yes, I'm sorry, my friend, but your opportunity to escape has now past. In fifteen minutes you and I are leaving here to go and meet Lex – and this time..," he said, reaching up to take Oliver by the chin, "this time your old pal gets to take off the hood."

Oliver scowled as Brown flicked the young man's head to the side.

"Stadler, get him down and prepare him for transport. Carly, there's a medical bag in my car – fetch it here so we can patch Mr Queen up as best we can." Brown's tone was once again businesslike, and there was a sense of a man who was suddenly conscious of time passing and there being a deadline to meet.

Stadler and Carly set about carrying out their orders, each fully aware of how close they had come to throwing away the greatest payday of their lives. Oliver was slowly lowered to the ground and then released from the chains that had held him captive during his ordeal. His arms fell loosely to the floor, the muscles rendered temporarily useless by the sustained stress they had been placed under. Stadler then dragged Oliver over to some crates and propped the young man up against them, observing with satisfaction how little fight the he had left in him to resist.

Carly quickly returned with the medical bag. She started to walk over to where Oliver sat, but was stopped in her tracks by Brown.

"Not you – I don't want you cleaning him up. No, as a parting gift to Mr Queen, and as recompense for the unnecessary suffering he has had to endure, I think we should let Miss Sullivan tend to the Green Arrow's wounds."

There was a moment's pause as everyone looked first at Brown, and then at Chloe. She stared at Brown, and then at Oliver, trying to work out what was going on in the kidnapper's mind. Was this some sort of trick? Some sort of mind game? She didn't know, but whatever the cause of Brown's act of generosity she felt her heart beating slightly faster as Carly first untied her hands and then tossed the medical bag into her lap.

Chloe stood and looked again at Brown, trying to see behind his inscrutable half smile.

"Go ahead, Miss Sullivan," he said, gesturing across towards Oliver. "You have ten minutes to restore our hero there to something approaching his former glory and to say your goodbyes. And don't get any ideas – Carly will be watching."

Chloe needed no further encouragement. She all but ran across to Oliver and knelt down beside him, opening the medical bag as she got a first look at the full severity of his wounds.

"I'll need some water," she said over her shoulder.

Carly did not move, but lounged against some crates, playing with the gun that she now held.

Chloe looked across at Brown, who had started to whisper to Stadler over in a far corner of the warehouse.

"I said I need water – I can't help him if I don't have water. I need a large bottle to clean these wounds and for him to drink, or else he might not make it your precious exchange – is that what you want?"

Brown looked across to Chloe, and then to Carly.

"Well, you heard Miss Sullivan – do as she says!"

Carly seemed taken aback by Brown's command, but did as she was told. Within a minute a large plastic bottle of water was unceremoniously planted next to where Chloe knelt.

"Don't mess with Chloe Sullivan," whispered Oliver, a grin forming across his bruised lips.

"Don't talk – drink," said Chloe urgently, holding the bottle to Oliver's mouth. He took the water greedily, like a traveller in a desert reaching an oasis.

"Thanks," he said simply, when at last she carefully withdrew the bottle from his lips. For a moment the two simply looked into each other's eyes, each eaten up with concern for the other but desperately determined not to show it. Chloe could feel the emotion welling up within her as she looked at how grotesquely Oliver's handsome features had been disfigured by the beating he had received. She could feel the tears beginning to well up in her eyes, and in order to fight off her feelings she determined to busy herself tending to his wounds.

First she bandaged up the arrow wound in his left shoulder. As she moved him forward so that she could clean and patch up the hole the young man winced with pain, causing Chloe to look with concern at his face.

"Hey, easy there – you know I need to look my best for Lex."

"Well if you'd rather that bitch over there…."

"Relax Chloe. There's no one I 'd rather have with me now than you."

There was something in that last sentence that made Chloe pause. Was he trying to say something? Or was she just imagining things?

She moved on to working on the cuts and bruises that covered his face and torso. As gently as she could she cleaned away the drying blood which had ran down his body, following the contours of his well honed chest and abdominal muscles. He watched her as she worked, never taking his eyes from her face.

"Chloe," he said, as she cleaned away the blood that had caked around one of his eyes. "I want you to do something for me."

The young woman felt her stomach turn as she detected the more serious tone in Oliver's voice.

"Whatever happens, I want you to promise me that you'll look after the guys. If Lex has got them, get Clark to help you - but you must keep the team together."

"You'll be able to look after them yourself," replied Chloe, resolutely determined not to look into Oliver's eyes. She didn't want to go where he wanted to go – she didn't want to admit that this really could be the end.

"Promise me."

At last she paused and looked into his deep, clear eyes, which still burned with the same intensity as they had done when she had first met him all those months before.

"I promise," she said quietly.

"One more minute, Miss Sullivan. I suggest you say your goodbyes." Brown's voice seemed obscenely casual as he walked past the pair on his way to the corridor where Oliver's cell had been located.

Chloe's eyes followed Brown's back as he disappeared from view, and then turned back to Oliver. Her brow was knotted with anxiety, fear, desperation – the moment she had dreaded had come, but for an instant she felt lost for words. But then she remembered how she had felt minutes before when she thought Oliver was dead – how she had been engulfed with regret at the things she had not said. She would not let that happen again – she had been granted a second chance, and she was determined to take it.

"Oliver," she said, her voice trembling, "I must tell you something."

Oliver looked back at her, the calmness in his face a stark contrast to the waves of emotion that swept across hers.

"I….," she began, before finding herself choked into silence. She wanted to tell him – she _had _to tell him. Before it was too late, before he was snatched from her, perhaps forever. _For God's sake Sullivan, tell the man you love him! _The voice in her head was clear and determined, but somehow she couldn't translate the thought into words.

"I know," said Oliver. The utter certainty in his voice, the serenity with which he said those two words, told her that words from her were not necessary – he understood.

"Kiss me."

His request was so simple, but it floored Chloe. How often had she dreamt of this moment? And for it to happen here, now, like this – it was almost too much to bear. She could contain them no longer, and the tears began to roll silently down her cheeks.

"So I can remember you."

Hesitantly, Chloe leaned forward. As she placed her lips against his they parted, allowing her kiss to become the moment of intimacy about which she long dreamt. Her eyes closed, and for a few short, precious seconds she was a million miles away, transported to a place of indescribable warmth and beauty. At that moment she felt that she loved him more than anyone had ever loved anyone in the world, and that despite everything, she was the most blessed woman on the face of the earth.

Clapping. Slow, rhythmic clapping.

"Bravo Miss Sullivan! Quite the send off for our hero, if I may say so – you make a perfect couple."

Brown's voice violated the moment, forcing Chloe to open her eyes and gently withdraw her mouth from Oliver's. For a second the two paused a couple of inches from each other, staring into each others eyes and trying to preserve forever that which had just passed between them. Words were not necessary – both understood.

"I do hate to break up you young lovers, but it really is time for Mr Queen to be on his way."

Chloe turned her head to look at Brown, and at that moment she felt a hand grabbing her hair and pulling her to her feet. It was Carly, brandishing the gun and gesturing towards the chair where Chloe had been tied up.

"Back where you belong, bitch," she said, before dragging Chloe across the room, never once letting go of her hair. She slammed Chloe down onto the plastic seat, before forcing her hands behind the back of the chair and binding them tightly.

As she was being tied Chloe watched as Stadler forced Oliver to his feet. His green leather tunic was thrust into his hands. Oliver slowly put it on, wincing as the material brushed against his tender wounds. Brown watched him as he did so, the half smile once again forming on his lips.

"Well, I'm afraid you're not quite fit for the society pages, Mr Queen, but Miss Sullivan has done a fine job – more than good enough to meet Lex Luthor, I think."

The mention of Chloe's name brought an expression of concern to Oliver's face. He looked across at her, and then to Brown.

"You've got what you want, Brown. Promise me you won't …"

"Harm Miss Sullivan?" interrupted Brown, reading Oliver's thoughts. "As I've told you, Mr Queen, I'm a businessman, a professional. I've no interest in Miss Sullivan whatsoever- once you have been handed over to Luthor and I'm safely on my way your pretty young lady friend will be released. You have my word."

"But what about earlier – the gun…"

"I wasn't getting paid then, Mr Queen. View Miss Sullivan's life as my gift to you, a thanks for all the entertainment you've provided."

Oliver searched Brown's face, trying to detect whether or not he was sincere. The kidnapper's expression did not change.

"Now, time we were on going. Stadler, tie his hands and gag him."

Stadler forced Oliver's arms behind his back, roughly tying his hands. He then pulled a roll of duct tape from his pocket and wound it tightly around Oliver's head two or three times, cruelly silencing him.

"Let's go, pretty boy," he sneered, propelling Oliver forward towards the exit from the warehouse. Oliver stumbled, only to find Stadler grabbing him by the collar and marching him onwards. Oliver turned his head towards Chloe, trying to catch one last glimpse of her before he reached the foot of the stairwell. He saw her face, tears flowing down her cheeks and her eyes glistening with desperation. And then he was forced to take another step – and she disappeared from view.

Stadler marched Oliver up the stairs, closely followed by Brown and Carly. Eventually they reached the top and emerged into the open air. The first signs of dawn could be discerned, and the warehouses could now be viewed more clearly than when Oliver had seen them earlier. He was marched the few steps to where Brown's car was waiting, Stadler bringing him to a halt next to the trunk.

Brown paused next to his captive.

"I'm afraid that you will have to travel second class once more, Mr Queen – I'm sure you understand. Stadler, make sure our guest has a peaceful ride, will you?"

Stadler grinned. Brown took the remaining steps to the driver's door, and got inside.

Stadler opened the door to the trunk, and then walked behind Oliver. Suddenly he placed his arm around Oliver's neck, pulling him back against his own chest in a vice-like grip. Oliver's instincts were to reach up to try to prise off his attacker, but his bonds made him helpless. He could feel his airway being constricted as Stadler moved his mouth to just an inch from Oliver's ear.

"It's been good Queen, really good," said Stadler. "But I just wanna leave you with a final little gift of my own. All that stuff Brown promised about your pretty little bitch? It ain't worth shit. I'm gonna take her, Queen, I'm gonna enjoy her, and then I'm gonna kill her. And the mighty Green Arrow ain't gonna be able to do a thing about it."

Oliver's eyes widened at Stadler's words, and he struggled impotently against the big man's iron grip. Stadler smiled, enjoying his final triumph over the man he hated. With his free hand he reached across and took a rag from Carly, which she had carefully removed from a small plastic bag. Panic rising inside him, Oliver realised what was about to happen, but struggle as he might he could not get free from the man who now threatened the most important person in the world to him. Stadler pressed the rag firmly over Oliver's nostrils, and the smell of chloroform began to overpower his senses.

"Sweet dreams, lover boy," whispered Stadler. Oliver tried to cry out, but the tape and the rag muffled his cries. He squirmed, twisting his head first to the left and then to the right. But Stadler's grip was unrelenting, and he soon found himself surrendering to effects of the chemical.

His felt his eyelids flutter, and then he plunged into unconsciousness.

* * *

**Well, I couldn't kill Ollie off, could I? At least not yet...**

**Thanks to all those of you who are reading - please post a review, as your feedback is massively appreciated and it does help to keep me going. I know some of you are wondering what has happened to Clark, AC and the other guys; all will be revealed in the next few chapters! **


	20. Chapter 20: At Last, A Break

**Chapter Twenty: At last, a break**

Lex lounged in his favourite leather armchair and stretched his legs out towards the fire which still burned strongly in the grate, casting a warm glow across his study. It was just after three in the morning, and nearly two hours had passed since his encounter with Brown and his "merchandise." Logic told him that he should be tired, but Lex felt as wide eyed and energetic as he had done twelve hours before. Adrenalin was a wonderful thing, he reflected, as he took a sip of the single malt he had poured himself on his return to the mansion about thirty minutes earlier. And how the adrenalin had coursed through him that night! He thought again of the Green Arrow kneeling before him, the feeling of intoxication he had experienced when he held the gun to vigilante's head. It was a moment he had played over and over in his mind many times over the previous two hours, and it never failed to thrill him. And to think of what lay ahead, the fact that by this time tomorrow he would have unmasked the man, looked directly into his eyes and drunk of his fear – it was almost too much to handle.

The door opened and one of Lex's security men stepped into the room. Lex had tightened his security precautions in the wake of the trick he had played on the remaining members of the Justice League – he knew that by now they would have realised that not only their leader but also Curry had been taken, and he no intention of allowing them to spoil his party.

"Mr Luthor, Clark Kent is here."

Clark. Lex supposed he shouldn't be surprised, because whenever he'd encountered members of the Justice League in the past Clark had never been far away. He suspected he was mixed up with them in some way, but he had no proof – as with so much about Clark Kent, the truth remained elusive. A visit in the middle of the night was unusual, even for Clark – had he been sent on some sort of reconnaissance mission by his little friends? Whatever the case, Lex decided to grant the young man an audience. He was intrigued, and he felt in the mood to be indulgent.

Lex nodded to indicate that he would see him, and within a few seconds Clark strode into the room. As Lex stood to greet the young man he noted the concern on his face, and the worry – no, fear – in his eyes. The night just seemed to be getting more interesting with every minute that passed.

"Clark! What brings you here at this hour? There's nothing wrong, I hope?"

"It's Chloe, Lex – she's missing."

Clark tried to mask the anxiety in his voice, but he knew that Lex could see through him – they had known each other for too long. It was an anxiety born of desperation, a desperation that had brought him here to confront Lex. After the events of the previous two hours he felt he had little choice but to confront his old friend, as there seemed to be no alternative. His mind was in turmoil – losing Oliver was bad enough, but now AC was missing, almost certainly captured, and Chloe wasn't answering her cell. He'd gone to the Wroughton Lake facility after they'd discovered Lex's little "joke", only to find it deserted, as he'd expected – Lex was too careful to make any elementary mistakes. And now he didn't know what to do – did Lex have Chloe? AC? Oliver? Part of him wanted to just confront Lex about all three, but to reveal he was working with the Justice League could open up all sorts of unforeseen and dangerous consequences. So he'd decided to challenge him about Chloe, in the hope that it would lead to something, anything, that he and the guys now back at Oliver's penthouse could use. It had been a night of disasters – it was time to gamble everything on a last throw of the dice.

"Missing? What happened?"

Clark's news came as a surprise to Lex. He knew nothing about Chloe's disappearance, and for a moment thought that Clark's arrival at his home might be a genuine coincidence after all.

"I was hoping you could tell me – the last I heard from her she was heading over to the LexCorp facility at Wroughton Lake." Clark's voice was stronger now, as his concern for Chloe overcame his initial fears about confronting Lex.

"Wroughton Lake? Why would she want to visit Wroughton Lake?"

The mention of the facility where he'd had his encounter with Brown earlier in the evening dismissed all thoughts of a coincidence from Lex's mind. Chloe was involved somehow – perhaps she'd been following Brown, perhaps she was working with the Justice League. Whatever the case, her name added a new and uncertain element to the night's events, and Lex disliked uncertainty. He resolved to play his cards close to his chest, and see what more he could learn from the worried and increasingly angry young man who stood in front of him.

"I was hoping you could tell me – have you been there tonight?"

"Clark, why would I go to Wroughton Lake? The facility is just used for storage – I haven't been there in months."

Clark eyed his old friend suspiciously, but Lex returned his gaze with a determined calmness – he had no intention of losing control of this meeting to Clark.

"Do you think something is going on out there? Perhaps Chloe was on to something, and you think I'm involved, is that it? Clark, I give you my word, I know nothing about what's happened to Chloe, and if there's anything I can do, anything…"

Lex was interrupted by his cell. He answered the call, and then looked across at Clark.

"Clark, I'm sorry but I've really got to take this – it's a call from Beijing I've been waiting for all night. I'm sure Chloe's OK – she's probably just following a lead somewhere and can't take any calls. I'll get my men to check out Wroughton Lake to see if they can find anything, but try not to worry – I'm sure she's fine."

Lex then turned and walked over to his desk. Clark hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do, but sensing there was nothing more to be gained from Lex, he turned and left the room.

As soon as the door closed Lex resumed his conversation with the man on the other end of the line, a man not calling from Beijing, but from much closer to home.

"OK Brown, you can talk now."

"I take it you had company? Well I'm afraid we have a problem – a minor complication to our little transaction."

"Let me guess – a reporter named Chloe Sullivan."

"You are remarkably well informed, Mr Luthor. Yes – the delightful Miss Sullivan took it upon herself to try to rescue our mutual friend, but you'll be glad to know that both are now once more enjoying my hospitality."

"That's good to hear. I think we may need to bring forward our second meeting. Sullivan's involvement complicates matters – I've already had one of her friends here looking for her who knew about Wroughton Lake."

"Really? That is concerning. Can you raise the money in say, three hours?"

"I'll get it done. Let's meet at my facility at Fitzpatrick at dawn – say seven?"

"I'll be there – I'm sure our green friend will be delighted to know he's going to see you again so soon after his last little encounter."

"At seven then – goodbye."

Lex slapped shut his cell. A slight frown creased his brow as he considered the developments of the last ten minutes or so. He was still in control, but he felt increasingly uneasy, aware that unless he was careful events could quickly slip from his grasp. The sooner he had the Green Arrow in custody the better, and the thought of the vigilante locked up with Curry went some way towards bringing back the sense of contentment he had felt only a few minutes previously.

He walked over to the intercom which connected him to the security room.

"Walker, get in touch with my bank in Metropolis. Tell them I'll be needing to make a major cash withdrawal at six this morning. If they object tell them I'll move my business elsewhere – they'll get the message."

"Yes, Mr Luthor."

Lex turned off the intercom and sat back in his chair. It was going to be alright, he kept saying to himself, and yet he couldn't shift the nagging doubt in the back of his mind.

* * *

Outside Clark stood motionless by the dark wall of Lex's mansion. A few feet along from his position the light from the window to Lex's study spilled out into the night, illuminating the lawn directly adjacent to it. He had heard everything of Lex's exchange with Brown – the news about Chloe, the arrangement to meet at the Fitzpatrick facility, Lex's appointment at the bank – and for the first time in forty eight hours he felt a real sense of hope. At last he had the break he had been looking for, the information he needed to have a shot at saving Oliver and Chloe. It wasn't going to be easy, but at least he was now one step ahead of the game – and there was everything to play for.

He turned away and headed back to Oliver's penthouse – if he was to pull off this rescue, he was going to need help.

* * *

As promised, this chapter shifts the focus away from Ollie and Chloe. A little short, I know, but important in setting up what is to come in the next two or three installments.

I never tire of saying thanks to all those who take the time to review. It's great to know that you're reading and enjoying what I'm writing, and a massive encouragement when I settle down in front of the screen to write the next chapter. Please keep reviewing!


	21. Chapter 21: Unwelcome Surprises

**Chapter Twenty One****: Unwelcome Surprises**

Lex arrived at his bank in the heart of Metropolis's financial district at just before six. As he had driven into the city dawn had begun to break over the tall buildings. The sky was clear, and the air still; it promised to be a perfect day. However, as Lex had driven through the streets of a city which had barely started to stir he had not felt the sense of contentment that he had expected to feel some hours earlier. Clark's visit, the news of Chloe's involvement, the change of plan – all had conspired to disturb Lex's equilibrium. Reason told him that all would be well, and that within a couple of hours the vigilante would be safely in his hands, but he disliked surprises, and there had been too many over the previous few hours to make him feel truly comfortable.

As he stepped from his limousine a man in a suit stood waiting anxiously on the side of the pavement. His tie was loose and hung awkwardly from his collar, and his hair appeared slightly dishevelled. The man had clearly dressed in a hurry and was unaccustomed to being at his place of work at such an early hour; however, a call from a Luthor in the middle of the night could not easily be ignored.

"Your money is ready, Mr Luthor, exactly as you requested," he said nervously.

"Good, then let's get on with it, shall we?" replied Lex, glancing to either side of him as he approached the glass doors of the bank's entrance.

"Stay here and keep watch. Any sign of anything suspicious and let me know," he said to the two guards who had accompanied him to the bank.

Leaving his men at the entrance, Lex entered the bank and followed the manager across the spacious lobby area. A lone security guard looked up from his position at the main desk as they approached the secure zone of the premises; despite the fact that such an early morning visit by a client was highly unusual, he did not seem too interested and quickly returned to his magazine.

The manager started to key in a sequence of codes into a pad next to a door.

"I'm sorry, Mr Luthor, but this will take a minute or two. I have to override the security protocols in order to gain access to the vaults out of office hours."

Lex watched impassively as the man keyed in the numbers. Eventually a green light appeared above the pad, and the manager turned with a smile of satisfaction to his visitor.

"Not long now, Mr Luthor. If you'd like to step this way."

The manager opened the heavy door, clearly reinforced to deter any would-be robbers. He indicated for Lex to step inside; once through the door Lex found himself in a narrow corridor leading to another door at the far end. This obstacle was soon overcome as an iris recognition scan enabled the manager to access the vault beyond.

"Here, you are Mr Luthor, exactly as you requested. Two million dollars."

Lex looked down at the case which lay open on the table in the centre of the vault. Freshly minted bills were neatly arranged inside – the price to be paid for the Green Arrow's head.

"There's no need to count it, is there?" said Lex. It was more of an assertion than a question – the idea that the bank would fail its most important client was inconceivable.

"I personally guarantee that it's all there, Mr Luthor."

"Good, because a great deal depends on this," replied Lex, closing the lid and turning the locks on each of the clips that secured the case.

Suddenly a deafening alarm filled the vault, echoing from one side of the chamber to the other. A red light flashed above the door, where the sound of bolts clunking into place was audible above the high pitched wail.

Lex scowled across at the manager, who for a moment looked liked a helpless animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.

"What's happening?" he demanded, taking the few steps over to where the other man stood and glaring at him.

"A security alert. I don't know …. Let me talk to my men." The manager slipped to one side of Lex and walked quickly over to the intercom panel located next to the door.

"Rogers, can you hear me? Rogers, what's going on?" The man's voice was trembling as he became aware of Lex standing at his shoulder, bristling with barely controlled rage.

"I'm afraid Rogers can't speak at the moment – he's having a little sleep."

The manager started at the unfamiliar voice which came through the speaker.

"Who's this? Where's Rogers? What's going on?"

"Lex, you there?"

Lex pushed the hapless manager to one side so that he could hear more clearly the voice coming through the intercom.

"Who is this?" he demanded.

"Lex, I'm hurt you don't recognise me! And after all the trouble you went to for me and Impulse a few hours ago!"

Lex's heart sank.

"Victor Stone!"

"Got it in one! Thanks for that little charade earlier on – Bart and I really appreciated it. He sends his best, by the way – wishes he could be here, but he's too busy rescuing the Green Arrow."

Lex said nothing, but inwardly every muscle tensed at Cyborg's last words.

"You hear me, Luthor? Bart and I don't like the idea of working as a duo – teams are more our style. And once we've got the Arrow, then we'll go pick up A.C. – that a problem for you?"

Lex stepped to one side and pulled at the handle of the door. It was stuck fast.

"Now let me guess – you're trying to get out, yeah?" Victor's voice sounded supremely confident. "Sorry, Lex, but I've fixed the security system of this place so bad it's going to take hours before you see daylight."

Lex continued to pull vainly at the door, knowing that his efforts were useless. If Victor Stone had got into the system there was no chance of escape any time soon.

"Oh, and Lex, your security guys say hi – they can't speak in person, 'cos they're a bit tied up at the moment." There was a chuckle at the other end of the line. "You know I've always wanted to say that – bye Lex, be seeing you!"

The link went dead, leaving only the sound of the wailing alarm.

For a moment Lex stood staring at the intercom, motionless. Cautiously, the manager approached, hoping to offer some words to soothe the temper of his clearly furious client.

"Don't worry, Mr Luthor. The alarm will have triggered the emergency protocols. My men will be here in minutes – I'm sure they'll get us out by nine."

A strangled yell of pain emanated from Lex as he whirled round, swinging the briefcase of money so that it hit the manager full in the face. The man was sent flying as the locks on the case sprang open from the force of the impact, sending the money cascading across the room.

* * *

Clark stood waiting in the middle of the deserted road, watching and listening intently for any sign of movement from the direction of Metropolis. To one side of him lay an open meadow, glistening with dew as the sun began to rise. To the other lay the large Fitzpatrick Lake, which gave its name to the LuthorCorp facility about five minutes drive behind him along the road. All was quiet, save for the sound of a few birds which circled the lake, presumably waiting for the first signs of fish near the surface of the water.

A sense of optimism filled the young man's mind, an optimism he had not felt for two days or more. Hearing the details of Lex's rendezvous with Oliver's kidnapper had been a lucky break, and freeing Oliver would surely lead to Chloe and maybe even A.C. All the guys shared his feeling that at last things were turning in their favour, and as the three had planned their rescue mission back at Oliver's apartment some smiles had at last returned to people's faces. Bart and Victor were easy to work with, and the plan they had formulated together was simple, but sure to succeed. Victor was to delay Lex at the bank as he and Bart covered the two roads leading to the Fitzpatrick facility. Oiver would be freed, they would find out where Chloe was being held, and move on from there.

Clakr glanced at his watch.

Six Forty-Three.

Victor would surely have done his work by now, and Clark smiled to himself as he thought of Lex trapped in the vault of the bank. Now it was his turn – and there was no question of him failing his two friends now.

The sound of a car. Quiet at first, but getting louder. As Clark watched he prepared himself mentally for the confrontation to come.

Eventually a car came into sight, driving steadily towards him. Clark could see clearly the driver at the wheel, immaculately dressed in a suit and tie. _This must be Brown_, he thought, a frown appearing on his face as he considered what this man had done to Oliver. He remembered the film of his friend strapped down on a table, electricity coursing through his body as he screamed in agony. And to think that he now had Chloe …. The sooner this was over the better, the young man thought to himself.

Soon the car turned on to the stretch of road by the lake, a few hundred yards from where Clark stood. He stepped out decisively into the middle of the road, blocking the path of the oncoming vehicle.

For a few seconds the car continued as if the driver had not seen Clark, but eventually it came to a halt some way away from the young man. For a few seconds there was silence as man and machine faced off against one another like a scene from some Hollywood western.

"Brown, it's over. Let Oliver go now." Clark spoke strongly, his voice cutting through the stillness of the dawn.

There was no response from the car, save the sound of the engine ticking over. Clark could see the expression on the driver's face clearly – Brown sat motionless, calculating his next move.

"Give it up, Brown. Luthor's not coming - the Justice League have seen to that. You're not getting your payday, so you might as well hand him over."

Again, there was no response from the car. Clark thought for a moment about his friend, bound in the trunk. _Hang in there, Oliver_, he thought to himself, _it won't be long now._

Suddenly there was a screeching of tires spinning on the road. The car catapulted forwards, accelerating towards Clark at great speed. Clark just had time to see Brown's face, his brow creased in concentration, before he braced himself for the inevitable impact.

The car hit Clark at between seventy and eighty miles an hour. As it hit Clark it flipped over on to its side and flew into the air, spinning uncontrollably. As Clark relaxed after the impact and looked in the direction of the car he saw to his horror that it was heading straight into the lake. It landed about forty feet out from the shore, sending enormous streams of water high into the air.

Clark immediately ran to the shoreline, taking his jacket off as he did so. He plunged into the water, aware that already the car had slipped beneath the surface. The water was cold and soon became cloudy as Clark dived deeper in the direction of the sinking car. He could barely see more than a couple of feet ahead of him, but the warmth of the car's engine guided him towards his target.

It only took Clark a few seconds to reach the vehicle. It was sinking fast, and the first thing that Clark saw was Brown, still strapped in the driver's seat. His eyes stared widely ahead of him, but they were lifeless eyes – as Clark reached in through the smashed window to feel for a pulse he knew immediately that the man was dead, his neck broken by the impact of the crash.

Clark moved along the side of the car, his heart pumping as he feared what he might find in the trunk. The sight that greeted him was both unexpected, and unwelcome.

The door to the trunk floated in an open position as the car continued to sink towards the floor of the lake. Inside there was nothing.

Oliver wasn't there.

* * *

As you can see, things are hotting up. We are moving towards the climax of the story, but I can promise you a few more twists and turns yet.

Concern has been expressed that Ollie hasn't had anything to eat and drink for a while. Chloe did he give some water a while back, and one of the reasons why he can't fight back is because lack of food has left him weak. I'm more concerned that I haven't allowed him to go to the bathroom...

Thanks to all who are taking the time to review - please keep them coming! I'm really busy at the moment, but I'll try to keep the weekly updates going.


	22. Chapter 22: Too Late?

**Chapter 22: Too Late?**

A sound.

Constant, humming, mechanical. What was it?

An engine. A car engine.

Slowly Oliver's senses began to come alive as the effects of the chloroform began to wear off. Where was he? What was going on? His thoughts were jumbled, incoherent. He felt groggy and weak, disorientated. And what was that smell? Something chemical…..

Chloroform.

The faint aroma of the chemical continued to hang around the young man's nostrils, and it was this smell which acted like a key, unlocking all his memories of the previous few hours. The torture he had suffered at the hands of Stadler, his moments with Chloe, recollections of being dragged to Brown's car, all were suddenly painfully vivid in his mind.

"_I'm gonna take her, Queen, I'm gonna enjoy her, and then I'm gonna kill her. And the mighty Green Arrow ain't gonna be able to do a thing about it."_

Stadler's last words to Oliver, whispered with venom into his ear as at the same time he pressed the chloroform –soaked rag over his face, echoed through the young hero's head. Chloe! He'd left her back there with that monster, a man wholly devoid of any capacity for mercy. He had to escape! He had to save her, whatever the price.

He tested his bonds. All was darkness in the close confines of the trunk of Brown's car, but he was soon aware of how desperate his predicament had become. His hands were bound behind his back, but new rope now secured his upper arms tight against his sides, and he could also feel other lengths of cord binding his thighs and feet together. Brown and Stadler were clearly not taking any chances – when the trunk was opened they intended their prisoner to be presented to Lex trussed up and utterly helpless.

How long had he got? Oliver had no idea how long he'd been out – he might have only minutes before they reached their destination. Lex would be waiting, glowing with triumph at his final victory. But that didn't matter now – what mattered was Chloe. He didn't care for himself, but he knew that he had to save the girl whose life now meant everything to him. The moments they had shared together back at Brown's warehouse, the kiss which for a few precious seconds had transported him to a place he had never been before – she had to live, to be protected, or else everything he had ever achieved in his life would be as nothing.

He started to struggle. Slowly at first, methodically, as his training dictated. But the bonds would not give – if anything, his struggling seemed to make them cut deeper into his skin. He could feel his heart rate quicken as he tugged more desperately at the ropes, seeking any sign of weakness. Surely there must be some give, some opening to exploit?

Nothing.

His breathing was becoming shallower now, and he started to pant against the silver duct tape that encircled his mouth. Part of him recognised the signs of panic, but he could do nothing to prevent the terror that was now starting to consume him. He started to thrash around wildly, throwing his body against the sides of the trunk in a vain attempt to escape.

"_I'm gonna take her, Queen, I'm gonna enjoy her, and then I'm gonna kill her. And the mighty Green Arrow ain't gonna be able to do a thing about it."_

No! He would not allow it!

He shouted into his gag. Perhaps someone would hear him, come to his rescue. He knew it was futile, and that the only person likely to hear it was his captor sitting a few feet away at the wheel of the car. He would smile in satisfaction to hear Oliver cry for help, but Oliver didn't care now. He didn't care about the image of the Green Arrow as the wise-cracking hero – that no longer seemed to matter. Chloe was all that mattered now.

Nothing.

No response, just the continuous hum of the engine, taking him to his fate. At last Oliver stopped struggling and lay still in the trunk, acknowledging defeat. He had failed her – that was all he could think about. That beautiful woman, that funny, tender, feisty, loving woman, would die at the hands of that monster, and he could do nothing about it. All the money, all the training, all the heroics, and it was worthless. The Green Arrow had failed.

It was a long time since Oliver Queen had cried. Not since his parents had died, leaving him an orphan. But now, at this time, he felt a tear slide silently down his cheek.

A change.

The sound of the engine was changing. What was happening? They were slowing. So this was it – the final chapter. Oliver tried to steel himself for what was to come, but his feelings for Chloe continued to consume him and banished any desire he might have to face Lex with defiance.

The car finally drew to a halt. Oliver listened for movement, the sound of a car door opening and footsteps moving towards the trunk. There was none, just the sound of the engine of the car ticking over.

And then suddenly Oliver was flung to the far side of the trunk. He barely had time to register that the car was accelerating at great speed before there was the sound of an impact and again Oliver's body was thrown against the unforgiving metal sides of the vehicle. But now he was spinning, tumbling, being thrown upwards and downwards as well as from side to side. He felt utter confusion as he tried vainly to brace himself for the frequent impacts that buffeted his body. What the hell was happening?

Another immense impact, sending shock waves through the entire vehicle. Oliver became aware that something had changed – there was more light in the trunk. He turned his head, and saw a sliver of light along the line where the hatch met the frame of the vehicle. The catch had come loose!

Oliver thrust his feet into the space, determined to grasp this lifeline. As he prised open the hatch water started to pour through the gap. Oliver had no idea what was going on, but he continued to use what energy he had left to lever himself towards the open space. The flow of water soon became a torrent, pushing his body back towards the rear of the trunk. To his horror Oliver realised what was happening – they were sinking, and they were sinking fast.

The trunk was filling with water quickly. Oliver tried to push himself forwards towards the opening, but the power of the water was overwhelming. He still had his feet in the gap, and tried all he could to anchor them there. If he lost his foothold the trunk would surely close, and he would drown. Suddenly the car seemed to turn, and Oliver was thrown back towards the opening. Recognising that this was likely to be his only chance of escape, he threw himself forward, and to his own surprise he plunged through the space and into the cold water beyond.

For a split second Oliver felt the elation that comes with freedom, before panic once again seized him. He was underwater, and as he looked upwards he could see the sunlight penetrating the surface about nine feet above him. Below him was inky blackness – and death.

He could feel his lungs tightening as he struck out towards the surface. He had not taken in much air before he had broken free of the trunk, and knew that he did not have much time. He wriggled his body in an attempt to move upwards, but the ropes that bound his body made any attempt at swimming impossible. Instead they were dragging him downwards, further and further away from the light above.

Oliver knew his position was hopeless, but for a few seconds he continued to struggle against the inevitable. The light was fading fast, and he could feel the water getting colder as he slipped deeper and deeper into the lake. He thought of Chloe, and in his mind he saw her smiling face, leaning forward to kiss him.

_I'm sorry_, he thought to himself.

And then all was black.

* * *

Chloe watched as Stadler and Carly busied themselves about the warehouse. It had been about thirty minutes since they had taken Oliver away, and in that time her remaining captors had all but ignored her, save for the occasional grin from Stadler whenever she caught his eye. They were clearly preparing to leave, packing up their belongings and removing all evidence of what had taken place there over the previous two days.

She tested the ropes that bound her hands. She had lost count of the number of times she had tried and failed to loosen her bonds, but desperation triumphed over reason. She knew she didn't have much time, either to save herself or to save Oliver. For all she knew he might already be in Lex's hands, which made escape all the more urgent. She had to get free, to get to Clark, to rescue Oliver.

That kiss was not going to be the end of it – it just couldn't be.

Chloe's eyes widened a little as she saw Stadler working with some wires. She knew instantly what he was doing, and it sent a shiver of fear down her spine.

He was rigging the warehouse to explode.

It took him another ten minutes to finish the job, as he set explosive charges at strategic points around the warehouse. Finally he was finished, and he turned with a look of satisfaction towards where Chloe sat, tied to a chair.

"The Metropolis Fire Department is going to be busy this morning," he said, his mouth twisted into a smile.

"What about her?" asked Carly, taking a couple of steps towards where Chloe sat.

"I think they're just going to be too late to save the hotshot reporter," he replied, taking his gun from his jacket.

For a moment Chloe stared dumbly at the gun pointed at her. She thought of Oliver, and of all that could have been. If this was to be it, she wanted to be with him, or as close as possible to him, so she closed her eyes.

And he was there, smiling back at her, reassuring her that everything would be alright.

A shot rang out.

* * *

For a moment Clark was confused as he stared into the empty trunk. He had expected to find Oliver, and the fact that he was missing gave rise to an increasing sense of panic. Where was he? He'd seen his outline in the trunk just a minute earlier, and his disappearance made no sense. Seconds were ticking by, and he knew that the longer it took him to find his friend the greater the danger he would not make it.

He scanned the water, his eyes penetrating the gloom. For a few agonising seconds he saw nothing, until finally he identified an unmoving form some feet below him. Instantly he was by Oliver's side, taking the lifeless man in his arms and driving upwards towards the surface.

Clark soon reached the shore, bearing the body of his friend in front of him. He lay Oliver carefully on the grass, feeling at once a sense of elation that at last he had found him, but also concern at his condition. He felt a wave of anger as he saw the bruises on the young man's face, which seemed to be at odds with the calmness of his expression as he lay peacefully on the ground. He took the ropes that bound Oliver and ripped them apart, allowing his arms and legs to fall limply to his sides. Carefully he tore the tape from his friend's mouth, but still there was no response.

"Oliver!", said Clark, gently shaking the man by the shoulders.

Oliver did not move.

Fear rising within him, Clark leaned in so that his head was inches from Oliver's face. He listened for signs of life, but no air was passing through his mouth. He looked down and across his chest, but his leather tunic was still.

Oliver wasn't breathing.

* * *

As we're getting near the end of the story, I thought we'd have two cliffhangers for this chapter. And for those of you concerned about Ollie's hygiene, the lake should have helped...

Thanks so much to those who continue to review - your encouragement is massively important. I'm taking on board your ideas, and, although I won't be able to incorporate them all in this story, I'm hoping to include a lot of them in a sequel that is shaping up in my mind.

Getting closer to the climax of this one, and some more surprises ahead...


	23. Chapter 23: I'm Coming With You

**Chapter Twenty-Three: I'm Coming With You**

"Boy Scout. Come in Boy Scout……Clark, are you there?"

Bart's voice sounded in Clark's earpiece as he knelt next to Oliver's body. He did not respond, but simply stared at his friend's face, seemingly so peaceful as it tilted slightly to one side on the fresh grass. Droplets of water ran down Oliver's cheeks and forehead, and his blond hair glistened in the early morning sunlight. The sight was one of almost serene tranquillity, and a passer-by might have looked upon Oliver and expected him to wake as the warmth of the sun's rays began to fall on his face and stir him from his sleep.

But this was no sleep. Oliver was not breathing, and for a moment Clark was paralysed, numbed by the thought that he was too late to save the life of the man who had offered him a sense of what he might be in the future, and who still had so much to teach him. Whatever his abilities, Clark now felt as impotent as any ordinary human being when faced with the tragedy of a friend's life ebbing away before him.

"Clark, answer me, dude! What's going on?"

Bart's voice, increasingly insistent, snapped Clark from his moment of shock.

"I've found him."

"Wooo, man, way to go! How is he?"

"You'd better get over here fast."

With that Clark tapped his earpiece to cut his link to Bart. He had work to do, because there was no way it was going to end like this. Oliver was going to live, and he was going to do whatever he had to save him.

A sudden wave of nervous energy swept through Clark as he set about putting into practice all he had learned about First Aid in High School. He unzipped Oliver's tunic and pulled it back, revealing the clean and sculpted lines of the hero's toned and muscular torso. Next he tilted his friend's head back and opened his mouth, clearing the airway and preparing for the resuscitation which he knew could not fail. Without hesitation he leaned down and pressed his mouth against Oliver's lips, creating a seal so that the air that he now forced into the man's lungs reached its intended destination. Oliver's skin felt unnaturally cold, his life already draining away.

After a few deep breaths Clark set about working on Oliver's chest, pressing down firmly against his chest wall. Clark's heart was racing, but he managed to keep the rate of compressions regular and took care not to allow his strength to break Oliver's ribs.

Twenty compressions.

Clark paused and looked at his friend, searching for any signs of life.

Nothing.

Again he pressed his lips Oliver's, forcing life into the dying man's lungs.

"No!"

The voice came from behind him, and was unmistakeable. Bart had arrived, and now stood in shock at the sight of his mentor lying lifeless on the ground. Clark did not respond – what could he say? Instead he began again to push down on Oliver's chest, hoping, praying, that this time it would work.

Again twenty compressions. Again the search for a response – and nothing. Minutes were passing, but Clark did not relent – he had to keep going, for this good man, this bona fide hero, was not going to die.

And then it happened.

Oliver's body suddenly convulsed, and choking sounds came from his mouth. A wave of relief and joy surged through Clark as the expression on Oliver's face was transformed in an instant from the serenity of death to the agony of life. Water and bile dribbled and spurted from his mouth, and Clark quickly turned him on to his side so that it could flow out and fresh air could again fill the Green Arrow's lungs.

Tears silently flowed down Bart's face as Oliver coughed his way back to life. After a few moments Clark took the young man in his arms and lifted his head and upper body up and off the ground, supporting him against his chest and legs as he himself knelt on the ground. Oliver's coughing soon ended, and at last he was able to see clearly and take in his surroundings. He looked up at Clark, and for a moment neither spoke as they stared into each others' eyes. Gratitude, relief, comradeship, love – all these emotions and more were shared by the hero of today and the man who he hoped to guide to the fulfilment of his destiny.

Oliver reached out and clasped Clark's hand.

"Thanks, man," he said simply.

Clark did not reply, but simply smiled and gave a gentle nod of the head.

"Hey, big guy! You gave us one hell of fright, you know that dude?"

Oliver looked towards Bart, who stood a few feet away. The tears that had been shed a minute before had not yet disappeared, but now the broad grin which stretched from ear to ear told of the teenager's delight that at last the man he looked on as an older brother had been found, safe and well.

"Hey Bart, it's good to see you too," said Oliver, returning the young man's smile.

Chloe!

The thought hit Oliver like a thunderbolt. For an instant he was consumed with guilt – how could he sit here, celebrating the end of his own ordeal, whilst she was still back there at the warehouse, facing who knows what.

He started to struggle to his feet, only to be held firmly by Clark.

"Chloe… We've got to save her, Clark. She's back there with him, and there's no telling…."

"Easy, Oliver, you're in no fit state to go anywhere. Tell me where she is, and I'll end this now."

Where was she! Oliver panicked as he realised he didn't know where Stadler was holding her. All he could think of was that anonymous warehouse, similar to countless other warehouses across the city.

"I don't know…. Clark, I don't know where she is."

"Think Oliver, can you remember anything? Anything special about where you were being held?"

Oliver wracked his brains, knowing that Chloe's life could depend on his tired memory. He tried to work his way through his ordeal systematically, searching for any clue, any hint, as to where he had been held.

And then it hit him.

"The Donovan Warehouse. One of them mentioned the Donovan Warehouse!"

Oliver looked in triumph at Clark, relief etched on to his features.

"You stay here. I'll find her," replied Clark.

"I'm coming with you."

Oliver's voice was firm, carrying with it the authority that Bart and Oliver had come to expect from the young billionaire.

"You can't – you're in state…"

"I'm coming with you, Clark, and there's nothing you can say to stop me. I got her into this, and I'm going to get her out."

For a moment the two men stared at each other, seeking to read the other's intentions. And then Clark offered his friend his hand, lifting him to his feet in silent acknowledgment that the leader of the Justice League had a right to see this thing through to the end.

"Hey Oliver, guess you'll be needing this."

Oliver turned and looked at Bart, just in time to catch the crossbow that his protégé threw across to him.

Oliver smiled.

"Let's do this."

* * *

Well, I couldn't kill him, could I? Not with a sequel starting to shape up in my mind, anyway. Two or three more chapters to go, and a few more surprises to come - this isn't going to end quite as you think it is going to end...

The next installment could be delayed, because I'm very busy just now. But a big, big thank you for taking the time to read, and especially review - please keep letting me know what you think, so that I get some motivation to keep writing!


	24. Chapter 24: A Hero Reborn

Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four: A Hero Reborn

"_I think they're just going to be too late to save the hotshot reporter"_

Chloe closed her eyes as tightly as she could as she prepared herself for what seemed the inevitable. She did not want to give Stadler the satisfaction of seeing her fear as she faced death. Instead she wanted to be with Oliver, to have his smiling face in her mind's eye as the last thing she saw before the end. And there he was, so alive, so strong, staring back at her and telling her everything would be alright, that whatever happened, he would always be with her.

She heard the shot, her body tensing in expectation of the impact of the bullet. Would she feel it, or would death be instantaneous? The thought crossed her mind, only to be followed by a second, and then a third. Why was she still thinking? Why was she still feeling? Surely this wasn't what it was like to be shot – was it?

"Open your eyes, bitch. I've not finished with you yet."

Chloe did as she was commanded, confused and uncertain. The first thing she saw was Stadler, still standing in front of her and still holding the gun. But there had been a shot – what had happened?

And then she noticed the red marks across her front. In an instant she knew that it was blood, and for a moment she thought it was hers. Then she saw the body sprawled across the floor next to where she sat, still tied to the chair. It was Carly, lying face up so Chloe could see her eyes staring lifelessly upwards towards the roof of the warehouse. Blood oozed from a wound in her forehead – Stadler's shot had been as accurate as it was deadly.

Chloe's mind struggled to comprehend this sudden turn of events. She stared at the corpse, and then back towards Stadler.

"Brown doesn't like loose ends," he said casually, by way of explanation. "And besides, she'd only waste her share."

He grinned, and then slipped his gun back into his jacket. He walked across towards Chloe, circling her like an animal stalking its prey.

"Did you think that bullet was for you?" he said, running his hand through Chloe's hair and leaning down to smell her scent. "No, I've got something far more enjoyable planned for you, Miss hotshot reporter."

Chloe pulled her head away, trying to evade Stadler's attentions. He grabbed her hair and pulled it back, so that he could speak only a couple of inches from Chloe's ear.

"See I promised your lover boy that I'd give you a real special send-off. Told him I'd show you what a real man can do, a man who doesn't need no leather costume to show a girl a good time."

Stadler let go of Chloe's hair, simultaneously pushing her head forward. Chloe's stomach churned as she took in the full meaning of her captor's threats, but she was determined not to show any fear. She turned towards him and spat in his face, catching him squarely in the eyes.

Stadler seemed momentarily surprised, but quickly recovered himself.

"Eh, the bitch has got some fight in her! I love it when a girl puts up a fight – we're gonna have such a good time, you and me."

Stadler then walked away to where many of the wires linked to the explosives seemed to converge.

"Just setting the timer, and then you and I can be out of here. I've got a nice place a few miles away – we can get real comfortable there."

As Stadler knelt down to set the charges Chloe tried once again to loosen her bonds. She could feel herself starting to panic, and tried to control herself. But the knowledge of what was to come proved too much, and her struggling became ever more desperate, even as Stadler walked back towards her.

"Hey, Miss Sullivan, you wouldn't be trying to leave, now would you? And with me promising to show you a good time, and all."

He set about untying her from the chair. Chloe thought that this might be her chance to make a bid for freedom, but Stadler gave her no opportunity for escape – within a minute she was standing with her hands tied behind her back and Stadler's left hand clasped firmly around the back of her neck.

"Now this place is gonna explode in about five minutes, so I guess it's time we were leaving, don't you?" he said. "And don't try anything, okay?"

Stadler held the gun in his right hand, and brandished it in front of Chloe's face. He then propelled her forward towards the stairs, never letting go of her neck.

A jumble of thoughts and emotions tumbled through Chloe's mind as she started to ascend the staircase. Fear – fear of what was to come at the hands of the animal who now controlled her destiny and who cruelly robbed her of the man she loved. Hope – yes, there was hope. Hope that perhaps even now Clark would sweep in to save her, as he had done so many times before, and that together they would go and save Oliver before Lex got his hands on him. Defiance – a determination that, whatever happened, she would be strong, strong as Oliver would want her to be strong. And love – love for the man who she had kissed only an hour or so before, and the thought of whom even now could take her to place of unbelievable contentment.

The sun was warm on her face as she stepped out from the confines of the warehouse. It was going to a good day, a fact which seemed to make her current plight all the more obscene and unbelievable.

"Let her go, Stadler!"

That voice – it couldn't be? Surely she was dreaming – her mind playing tricks on her. She turned her head in the direction of that familiar sound, to be met by a sight that reason told her was impossible.

Oliver!

She barely had time to register what her eyes were telling her before Stadler's hand smothered her mouth and pulled her close against his body. She felt the hard metal of the gun barrel pressed firmly against the side of her head, but somehow she was unable to fully process what was taking place. All she could do was to stare at what part of her mind told her must be a mirage, standing just a few feet away from her. Oliver stood there, once again tall and invincible, pointing his crossbow directly at Stadler. Flanking him to either side were Clark and Bart, their faces firm with determination.

"I said let her go, Stadler – it's over."

Oliver's words dispelled any lingering doubts in Chloe's mind that this was some sort of dream. This was happening – Oliver was free! Her heart leapt with joy to see him once again at the head of his team, the natural order at last restored. She wanted to cry out to him, but Stadler's grip prevented any form of communication. Her captor hugged her close to his body, and at last Chloe registered that this wasn't over yet – she was a human shield, and, cornered as he was, Stadler had the capacity to do anything.

For a few moments Stadler said nothing, obviously struggling as Chloe had struggled to take in this sudden turn of events. He shot quick looks to his left and right, perhaps hoping to see Brown coming to his rescue, but all he saw was empty road.

"Brown's dead. Let her go now, and maybe you'll live to see this day end."

"Back off, Queen! If you and your friends make one move I'll kill this bitch, do you hear?"

Oliver, Clark and Bart stood motionless, Oliver continuing to level his crossbow in the direction of Stadler and his captive.

"You're going to jail, Stadler – do you want to add a murder rap to the charges?"

"One more murder ain't gonna make much difference to me, pretty boy. Besides, you're not gonna hand me over to the cops – not with me being able to tell the world the true identity of the mighty Green Arrow."

Stadler's voice had regained some of its confidence, and the sneer that had taunted Oliver during his captivity had once again returned.

Oliver did not hesitate in his reply.

"If bringing scum like you to justice means that the world learns I'm the Green Arrow, then it's a price I'm willing to pay. There's no way out of this for you, Stadler – give it up now."

For what seemed like an eternity Stadler faced off against Oliver, each never taking his eyes from the other. The tension was almost unbearable as everyone waited to see what Stadler's next move would be – surrender, or attack.

"Okay, Queen – you win. I give up."

Chloe heard Stadler's words, and then felt his hand being removed from her mouth. Instinctively she took a few steps away from her tormentor as soon as his grip was released, and then turned to see that his hands were raised in the air in a gesture of defeat.

"Drop the gun," commanded Oliver. He nodded towards Clark, who ran over to Chloe to untie her hands.

Stadler did as he was told, a strange smile forming on his lips.

Oliver walked over to where his former captor stood, taking care to keep his crossbow levelled at his head. As soon as was close enough he kicked Stadler's gun away – only then did he start to relax.

"Turn around and place your hands on the wall."

Stadler did not move, but simply grinned at Oliver. Close up he could see that despite the strength of his voice, Oliver was clearly still suffering from the effects of his ordeal – he was sweating profusely, and the wounds that Stadler had inflicted were still clearly visible.

"Hey, you don't look so good, Queen. I guess the press are gonna see just how much I kicked your leather ass."

"Shut up, Stadler, and turn around."

Stadler slowly complied, and took a couple of steps towards the wall of the warehouse, his back towards Oliver. Suddenly he appeared to stumble, and fell to the ground, clasping his boot. Oliver barely had time to react before he saw the glint of metal in the morning sunshine, and then felt a searing pain in his shoulder. He cried out as he realised that Stadler had pulled a knife on him, and thrown it at his already wounded flesh. He tried to keep the crossbow aimed at Stadler, but in the three seconds or so that he was disorientated the man had taken the opportunity to escape, ducking into the warehouse and slamming the door behind him.

Oliver cursed himself that he had allowed himself to be taken in the same way as he had taken Stadler only a day or so before. Clark had been right – he hadn't been fit to undertake this mission. He let the crossbow fall to the ground and then slumped down against the warehouse wall, reaching across to pull the small blade from his shoulder.

And then she was there. Kneeling down next to him, her face etched with concern as she tenderly ran her hand through his blond hair.

"Hey, Watchtower, it's good to see you again."

"Sshhh, don't try to talk – just rest," said Chloe, gently placing two fingers against his lips.

Bart and Clark came up and stood behind Chloe, looking down at the wounded hero.

"I'm going after him – is there any way outta this warehouse apart from this door?", asked Bart.

Chloe turned and looked up at the teenager, obviously pumped up with adrenalin and eager to avenge his mentor.

"Don't go in there – he rigged it to blow."

"Then we'd better get out of here – fast", said Clark, reaching down and picking up his friend in his arms.

The four of them started to move away from the warehouse, before an enormous explosion sent them flying across the road. They turned to see the building engulfed in flames, stretching high into the sky. Hot debris fell all around them, forcing them to shield their faces from the effects of the inferno.

"Could he of gotten out?" asked Bart, looking at Chloe and Oliver.

"Not in the time he had", replied Chloe, smiling as she turned and looked at Oliver. "I guess the Justice League isn't going to be needing a new leader after all."

* * *

Sorry for the delay with this chapter - I've been really busy recently. We're nearly there - only one more chapter to go! And don't worry - I haven't forgotten AC!

Thanks to all of you who are reviewing - it's great to know that you are enjoying the story, and some of your comments are just amazing. Please keep letting me know what you think - it helps to keep me going.


	25. Chapter 25: The End of the Beginning

**Chapter Twenty-Five****: The End of the Beginning**

Silently Chloe stepped into the room, carefully closing the door behind her so as to not make any sound which might disturb its sleeping occupant. Gingerly she made her way towards the chair which stood at an angle next to the head of the large bed which dominated the otherwise sparsely furnished room. She resumed her seat, taking up the same position as she had adopted for the many hours since their return from the warehouse. The others had tried to persuade her to take a break, but she was insistent; she would not give up her bedside vigil until she was sure Oliver was okay.

She looked at the slumbering figure lying on the bed next to her, a white silk sheet resting on his body just below his well defined chest. He looked so peaceful, so serene, it was hard to imagine the ordeal that he had been through over the previous few days. But the bruises were there, and the bandages – visible reminders of what torments Oliver had had to endure. Chloe thought back to the warehouse and those images, all too vivid in her mind, of Oliver hanging from those chains, his body arching in agony as Stadler had electrocuted him, over and over again. She had felt so powerless to help him then, and she recalled her sense of despair, her feeling that all was lost. To think that from that nightmare she would be sitting next to him here, now, safe and secure in his penthouse – the thought only twenty four hours ago would have been incredible to her. But he _was _safe, and they had survived. The scars would heal, and then everything would return to how it had been before, with Oliver and the guys fighting Lex and outwitting him at every turn.

Or would it?

For a start there was AC, still missing since his stakeout at the lake. Clark and the others were out looking for him now, but they all knew that most likely he had been captured by Lex. They had lied to Oliver about that, telling him that AC was fine when they returned to the penthouse. She felt bad about the lie, but it was necessary – if Oliver had found out the truth he would have insisted on going out there and searching for him, and he was in no fit state to do anything, let alone mount some sort of rescue mission. No, the lie had been the right thing to do, and who knows, perhaps they would find AC before there was any need to tell Oliver the truth about his friend.

And then there were the scars that couldn't be seen, the emotional scars. Oliver was strong, but what he had suffered at the hands of Brown and Stadler would have tested anyone to the point of destruction. What effect would the torture, the taunts, his brush with death, have on his mental state? Would he still be the same supremely self-confident hero, utterly fearless in his pursuit of what he knew was right? He wasn't like Clark, he didn't have any special powers, and the last few days had exposed his humanity in all its vulnerability. He would want to go on, she knew that, but he would need support – and she knew in her mind that only she could give him that support.

And what of their relationship? Those moments they had shared together surely meant that they could never go back to how they had been. She could no longer be just Watchtower – too much had passed between them for that. But what did lie ahead? What did that kiss mean? Did he feel as she felt, or had the power of the moment produced something which in calmer times could not be replicated?

Chloe glanced across at Oliver's leathers, cast over the back of a chair by the door. He was the Green Arrow, and nothing would ever change that. Nor would she want it to change, but could she live with it? Could she build a relationship with a man who daily put himself in harm's way, who went out on every mission knowing that perhaps this would be the mission from which he did not return?

"The Watchtower never sleeps – that's what I like about you, Chloe Sullivan."

Oliver's voice, quiet but clear, brought Chloe back to the present. She turned her head towards Oliver, to find him smiling back at her.

"Hey, you're awake – how do you feel?"

"Like I've just gone thirteen rounds with Clark," replied Oliver, wincing as he pulled himself up in his bed.

He looked down at his chest and arms, taking in the bandages and bruises.

"I guess I don't want to be looking into a mirror anytime soon," he said, smiling across at Chloe.

"Oh, you look just fine to me," said Chloe. For a moment there was a pause as each looked at the other, remembering what had passed between them in the warehouse.

It was Oliver who broke the silence.

"So, where are the guys? You said AC was out on a mission when we got back – I want to see the big man, tell him he should be around when his leader needs rescuing."

"Oh, he's out with the others – they'll be back soon." Chloe felt her face redden as she repeated the lie of earlier, desperately hoping that Oliver did not pick up on her deception.

"Well, I suppose it can wait," said the young man. He asked nothing more, much to Chloe's relief.

There was silence once more. Each was aware of what the other was thinking, but neither knew how to start the conversation that they knew they must have.

"About the.."

"I know that you…"

The two of them laughed as they both started to speak at the same time, each bringing the other's sentence to an abrupt end.

"You first" said Oliver.

"No, you say what you wanted to say," replied Chloe.

"Okay. I just wanted to say that back there at the warehouse, when we kissed…."

Oliver paused for a moment, appearing to struggle to find the right words.

"You don't need to say any more, I understand. We were under stress, and we didn't know what we were doing. It meant nothing, and I want you to know that I can move on from it – we can carry on just as…."

"Hey, I just wanted to say, when we kissed, it was one of the most beautiful moments of my life." Oliver's voice, so calm and soft, brought the tumble of Chloe's garbled words to an abrupt end. "And I was just wondering, was there any chance of experiencing that moment again?"

Joy filled Chloe's heart as she looked at the man whose words had banished all the doubts that had been nagging away at her for the long hours she had watched him sleep. It had not been a one-off – he really did feel as she did, and in that moment her emotions soared as they had never soared before.

"Oh, I think that that can be arranged," she said, leaning forward so that her face was just a few inches from his. He reached up and placed a hand on her cheek, staring into her eyes as he had stared into them in very different circumstances back in the warehouse. Then they had kissed to say goodbye – now their kiss was to mark the beginning of a relationship that she had once only dreamt of.

"I love you, Chloe Sullivan," he said softly, before placing his mouth against hers. They kissed – a long, sensual, passionate kiss, which seemed to act as a release for all the emotion that had built up over the previous few days. It had taken a desperate situation to bring them together, but at that moment they knew that their destiny was to be with each other, and no obstacle would ever separate them again.

Eventually their lips parted, and again they looked deep into each others eyes. Without saying a word, Oliver then threw back the sheet which loosely covered his body. Chloe then slipped into the bed next to him, gently nestling her head against his chest and placing her arm across his body. Oliver gently replaced the sheet so that it now enfolded both of them, and placed his hand gently on her head, running his hand through her hair. Her scent filled his nostrils as they pulled close to each other, sharing the warmth of their bodies.

They had found each other – and nothing, no one, would ever tear them apart.

* * *

"Mr Luthor?"

Lex did not reply to his aide's voice, but instead continued to stare into the middle distance, apparently lost in thought. He was sitting in his office at the LexCorp Building, having arrived there some three or so hours before. In his hands he held the arrow that Brown had sent him a couple of days earlier, the gift that had initiated the sequence of events that had taken him to within an inch of achieving his longed-for victory over the Green Arrow. Now that victory seemed a million miles away, as his hopes had collapsed around him. When he had eventually managed to free himself from the bank vault he had gone to the rendezvous point, knowing full well that he would be too late. As expected, Brown had not shown, and an hour or so later his men had found the Englishman using the tracking device planted on his car, dead at the bottom of a nearby lake.

The Green Arrow was nowhere to be seen.

"Mr Luthor, the report on the warehouse fire you requested?"

At last the aide's voice brought Lex back to reality. Without speaking he placed the arrow on his desk and held out his hand to receive the report. The aide handed it over and withdrew, glad to leave his brooding boss to his thoughts.

Lex opened the report and scanned it quickly, taking in its contents. The tracking device had indicated that Brown's car was parked up in a warehouse district for some hours between his meeting with Lex and the scheduled handover, and on hearing that a suspicious fire had taken place in the vicinity early that morning his interest was aroused. The fire had been caused by some sort of explosion, according to police reports, and there had been one fatality – a young woman, as yet unidentified. There was nothing else of interest in the document, and Lex cast it casually onto his desk – any hope that perhaps his enemy had died in this fire was extinguished.

Again Lex picked up the arrow, turning it slowly in his hands. He thought back to that moment the previous night when he had had his enemy bound and gagged before him, the moment when he had placed the gun against his head. To have come so close! Lex felt the anger and frustration of the last few hours once again start to bubble up within him. How could he have let the Green Arrow slip through his fingers yet again? He hated him, he hated him as he had never hated anyone before in his life. Every resource of LuthorCorp, every fibre of his being, would be given over to the capture of the Green Arrow. He would destroy everything the young hero valued – his friends, his family – all would be destroyed in his quest for victory. He, Lex Luthor, would not rest until the man was chained up and begging, crying, for mercy!

Suddenly the arrow snapped in Lex's hands. Unaware of the pressure he had been placing on the shaft, Lex looked down at the two broken pieces that he now held in each hand. He smiled at the symbolism of the moment, before casting the pieces onto his desk. He then picked up his cell and placed a call which he knew would serve to brighten his day.

"Dr Thomas? Lex Luthor here."

"Ah, Mr Luthor, good to speak to you, sir. When can I expect the arrival of my next patient?"

"I'm afraid there's been a change of plan. The Green Arrow transaction was unsuccessful."

"I'm sorry to hear that – I was so looking forward to working on him."

"All in good time, Dr Thomas. But this unexpected development does give greater urgency to your work on your other patient."

"Mr Curry? All is proceeding according to plan, Mr Luthor. I expect to start working on him tomorrow morning."

"Excellent news. I intend to travel up personally to supervise his interrogation – make sure you don't start without me."

"Of course, Mr Luthor. It will be a privilege to have you observe my work."

Lex snapped his cell shut. He then turned to his computer and began to access a sequence of codes which gave him access to the surveillance network of all LuthorCorp facilities. Soon he was looking at the Wallis Facility, and within seconds he had found the camera feed he was looking for.

Staring at the screen, Lex could see a brightly illuminated room, white and featureless save for the powerful lamps which cast a harsh light into every corner. Suspended from a hook in the centre of the room hung the unmistakeable form of Arthur Curry, his arms stretched high above his head and shackled with thick chains. The young man's head lolled forwards onto his chest, an obvious sign of unconsciousness. As Lex looked closely he could see grey blotches disfiguring his well muscled chest and arms, a sure sign that Aquaman was starting to suffer from the effects of prolonged water deprivation.

Lex leaned back in his chair and smiled. He may have lost a battle today, but he still held an ace up his sleeve. Curry would talk, or the Green Arrow would try to rescue him. Either way, he would bring the vigilante to heel and uncover his true identity – and then his revenge would truly begin.

This wasn't over – not by a long way.

THE END

* * *

So that's it guys – my first story completed! Can't believe I started writing this six months ago. I'm guessing that some of you are shouting at your computers that I can't end it there, with AC still at the mercy of Lex. Well you know I like cliffhangers, and Ollie and Chloe escaping from Brown and Stadler and being reunited seemed like a natural point to bring this first story to an end. I've got plans for another one, maybe two, Chlollie stories, picking up immediately where this one left off. I know that a lot of you wanted another face-off between Lex and Ollie, and the developing feud between them is one thing I'm keen to write more about. Don't want to give too much away, but I can guarantee a lot of angst and desperate situations!

I want to thank you all SO much for taking the time to read my story. I especially want to say a MASSIVE thank you to those who have taken the time to review – it is no exaggeration to say that without your kind words and encouragement this story might never have got finished. You'd make my day if you'd take a little time now to give this story a final review – it would help to fire me up to get started on the next one!

Thanks again, guys – off now to have a lie down!


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